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SEYMOUR  DURST 


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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
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http://archive.org/details/harpersnewyorkerOOmacl_0 


HARPER'S 

NEW  FORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD 


A  DESCRIPTION  OF  THE  SCENERY,  RIVERS,  TOWNS,  VILLAGES, 
AND  MOST  IMPORTANT  WORKS  ON  THE  ROAD 


WITH  ONE  HUNDRED  AND  THIRTY-SIX  ENGRAVINGS. 
BY  LOSSING  AND  BARRITT. 


FROM  ORIGINAL  SKETCHES  MADE  EXPRESSLY  FOR  THIS  WORK. 


EIGHTH   EDITION,  REVISED,  ENLARGED,  AND   CORRECTED   TO  THE 
PRESENT  DATE. 


NEW  YORK: 
HARPER    &    BROTHERS,  PUBI-lSHERS, 
FRANKLIN  SQUARE. 


CONTAINING 


BY  WILLIAM  MACLEOD. 


1855-6. 


Eiiferc-.i,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  one  thoumnd 
eight  hundred  and  fifty-five,  by 
Harper  &  Brothers, 

ui  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District 
of  New  York. 


PREFACE. 


The  object  of  this  work  is  to  furnish  the  traveler  on 
the  New  York  and  Erie  Hail-road  with  that  kind  of  in- 
formation which  every  one  passing  over  a  new  route  de- 
sires to  have  in  his  possession.  In  securing  this,  we  not 
only  add  to  the  pleasures  of  rail-road  traveUng,  but  re- 
lieve it  of  much  of  the  tediousness  which  is  so  often  the 
companion  of  a  long  ride. 

The  work,  it  is  hoped,  will  find  favor  not  only  with 
travelers,  but  with  those  who  take  an  interest  in  the 
progress  of  internal  improvements,  of  which  our  road  is 
one  of  the  most  important,  being  the  longest  rail-road 
owned  by  one  company  and  under  one  management  in 
the  world. 

The  engravings  form  a  prominent  feature  of  the  book. 
The  sketches  for  them,  as  well  as  the  accompanying  de- 
scriptions, were  all  furnished  expressly  for  this  work  by  Mr. 
"William  MacLeod,  and,  with  the  exception  of  two  or  three, 
have  never  before  been  published.  They  are  intended  to 
be  portraits  of  the  scenery  and  objects  represented. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


No.  Fage 

1.  Piermont,  from  the  Hudson   22 

2.  Works  at  Piermont   2:* 

3.  View  at  Piermont,  looking  east   2o 

4.  View  at  Piermont,  looking  north   26 

5.  Station  at  Blauveltville,  looking  east   27 

6.  View  looking  toward  Thom's  Cottage   28 

7.  Thorn's  Cottage,  near  Clarkstown,  looking  north   29 

8.  Suftern's  Station   30 

9.  Intrenchments  near  Suffern's   31 

10.  Vv^ashington's  Head-quarters,  Suffern's,  looking  west   32 

1 1 .  The  Tom  Mountain,  from  the  road,  looking  northeast   33 

12.  Ramapo  Works,  Station  on  the  left   34 

13.  Ramapo,  from  the  Bridge,  looking  west   36 

14.  Station  at  Sloatsburg   37 

15.  Mountain  Stream  and  Ruin  with  an  Arch   39 

IG.  I\Ionroe  Works,  looking  west   41 

17.  Turner's,  looking  west     43 

18.  ]\Ionroe,  looking  east   44 

19.  Station  at  Oxford,  Sugar  Loaf  in  the  distance   4G 

20.  Chester,  looking  west   49 

21.  Gray  Court  Meadows,  from  Chester   49 

22.  Sugar  Loaf,  from  the  Chester  Station   50 

23.  Goshen   51 

24.  Station  on  the  Walkill  at  New  Hampton   5.'> 

25.  Middletown  Station   54 

26.  Middletown,  from  the  north   55 

27.  View  from  Howell's   56 

28.  ',  Eastern  face  of  the  Shawangunk,  from  near  Otisville   56 

29.  Otisville,  from  the  west   57 

30.  West  side  of  Shawangunk   58 

31.  ^^'all  Embankment  near  Otisville   59 

32.  Looking  toward  the  Neversink  Valley  and  Port  .Tervis   59 


VI  LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

No. 

33.  Cuddebackvillo,  on  the  Delaware  and  Hudson  Canal,  looking 

north   60 

34.  Thorough  Cut  near  Port  Jervis   60 

35.  The  Neversmk,  Port  Jervis  in  the  distance   62 

36.  View  near  the  Slate  Rock  Cutting,  looking  north   63 

37.  Bridge  at  Port  Jervis   64 

38.  Port  Jervis   04 

39.  Approach  to  the  Station  at  Delaware,  looking  west   65 

40.  Station  at  Delaware,  looking  northwest   65 

41.  Canal  Bridge  near  Port  Jervis   68 

42.  Approach  to  the  Bridge  over  the  Canal   68 

43.  From  the  Bridge  over  the  Canal,  near  the  Glass-house  Rocks  68 

44.  Saw-mill  Rift  Bridge,  with  Canal,  looking  north   69 

45.  From  Saw-mill  Rift  Bridge,  looking  west .  .  ,   69 

46.  Saw-mill  Rift  Rocks,  near  the  Bridge,  looking  east   70 

47.  Near  the  Great  Bridge  on  the  Delaware   70 

48.  View  from  Stairway  Brook  Station,  Delaware  and  Hudson 

Canal   72 

49.  Approach  to  Pond  Eddy,  with  Canal   74 

50.  Rock  Cutting  on  the  Delaware    75 

51.  The  great  Rock  Cutting  near  Shohola    76 

52.  Piece  of  great  Rock  Cutting  near  Shohola,  looking  south  .  .  77 

53.  Rock  Cutting  near  Shohola   78 

54.  Rock  Cutting  near  Shohola,  looking  west   78 

55.  Bridge  over  the  Shohola   78 

56.  From  Shohola  Bridge  toward  Barry ville   79 

57.  Barry  ville,  from  Shohola  Station  ,   80 

58.  Delaware  Bridge   81 

59.  Delaw-are  Bridge  Station    82 

60.  Narrowsburgh,  looking  west   82 

01.  Narrowi^burgh,  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  Delaware,  look- 
ing north  %   83 

62.  Bridge  on  the  Delaware  at  Narrowsburgh   84 

63.  Cochocton,  from  the  Station,  looking  east   87 

64.  Cochecton,  looking  west   87 

65.  Station  at  Calicoon,  looking  west   89 

GG.  On  the  Calicoon,  Delaware  in  the  distance,  looking  south.  .  90 

67.  Hankin's  Station   93 

08.  A  rafting  Station  near  Hankin's   94 

09.  From  Equinunk  Station   95 

70.  Equinunk,  from  the  road    96 

71    Stockport    97 


i 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS.  vil 

No.  Pn^'e 

72.  On  the  Delaware,  near  the  junction  of  its  branches,  below  ! 

Chehocton   98  ' 

73.  East  Branch  of  the  Delaware,  near  Chehocton,  looking  east  98 

74.  Station  at  Chehocton   99 

75.  Chehocton,  from  the  road  above  the  Station   100  j 

76.  West  Branch  of  the  Delaware,  after  leaving  Chehocton,  | 

looking  south   102  ] 

77.  West  Branch  of  the  Delaware,  looking  west   102  j 

78.  Near  Cochecton   102  | 

79.  The  approach  to  Deposit,  from  the  east   103  i 

80.  Deposit  Station,  looking  west   103  I 

81.  Deposit,  from  the  west   104  j 

82.  Beginning  to  ascend  Summit  from  Deposit   105 

83.  Gravel  Bank,  four  miles  from  Deposit   106 

84.  Near  the  Gravel  Bank,  four  miles  from  Deposit,  looking  west  106 

85.  Curved  Embankment  near  the  Gravel  Pit   107 

86.  Half  way  between  Summit  and  Deposit   107 

87.  Scene  near  Gulf  Summit,  looking  north   108 

88.  Great  Cut  at  Gulf  Summit,  from  the  east   108 

89.  From  the  top  of  Summit,  Snow  effect   109  j 

90.  Cutting  at  Summit,  from  the  west   Ill  | 

91.  Cascade  Bridge,  from  the  east   112 

92.  Cascade  Bridge,  from  below   113  -. 

93.  West  Abutment  of  Cascade  Bridge   114 

94.  Cascade  Bridge,  from  the  Quarry,  looking  south   114 

95.  Cascade  Bridge,  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  river   116  1 

96.  First  View  of  Susquehanna,  beyond  Cascade  Bridge   118  j 

-  97.  First  View  of  the  Starrucca  Viaduct,  from  the  east   120  i 

•>8.  The  Starrucca  Viaduct,  looking  west   121 

99.  The  Starrucca  Viaduct,  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  Sus- 

Quehanna   122  i 

100.  Lanesborough,  and  Trestle  Bridge    123  j 

101.  Starrucca,  from  the  west   124  i 

102.  View  of  the  Starrucca,  Lanesborough,  Trestle  Bridge,  &c.,  ] 

from  above  the  Rail-road     126  ] 

103.  The  Works  at  Susquehanna,  from  the  Station   128  ' 

104.  Double  Bridge  over  the  Susquehanna  at  Lanesborough  .  .  .  129 

105.  Looking  west  to  the  first  Rock  Cutting  near  Great  Bend.  130  3 

106.  Distant  View  of  the  Rock  Cutting  near  Great  Bend   130  ; 

107.  Great  Rock  Cutting  near  Great  Bend   130  ; 

108.  On  the  Susquehanna,  looking  toward  Great  Bend   131  ■ 

109.  Station  at  Great  Bend,  looking  west   13! 


^'^^^  LIST  OF  JLLUSTRATIO.\S. 

No. 

110.  Village  of  Orcat  Bend,  from  the  Station,  looking  south.  .  133 

111.  Station  at  Binghainton,  from  the  east  .  .  .  .  135 

112.  Binghamton,  from  the  Bridge   ' jgg 

113.  Bridges  on  the  Chenango  and  Susquehanna,  looking  north  137 

114.  From  the  Bridge  over  the  Chenango,  looking  north   ]3U 

115.  Union,  from  the  Station  j^.^ 

116.  Alew  looking  toward  Union,  from  the  west  [  U3 

117.  Bridge  over  the  Susquehanna  near  Campville,  looking  north  144 

118.  Station  at  Campville  

119.  Owego,  from  the  Road  

120.  Station  at  Owego,  looking  west   14(^ 

121.  Owego,  from  the  Station,  looking  south   145 

122.  Smithborough,  looking  west   j^g 

123.  Cut  near  Barton   j^^g 

124.  Barton,  from  the  old  road   [ j^g 

125.  Straight  Section  between  Barton  and  AVaverley,  looking 

northwest   "  14.Q 

126.  AVaverley  150 

127.  Station  at  AVaverley,  looking  west   150 

128.  Station  at  Waverley,  Spanish  Hill   151 

129.  On  the  Chemung   "  " j^g 

130.  On  the  Chemung  

131.  Gravel  Cut  near  AVellsburg,  looking  east   154 

132.  Rocky  Cut  near  Wellsburg    154 

133.  Station  at  Elmira  

134.  Elmira,  from  the  west   j5y 


135.  Corning,  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  Ch 

136.  Painted  Post,  from  the  cast   154 


emung   103 


ILLUSTRATED  GUIDE-BOOK 


OF  THE 

NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


It  can  not  be  doubted  that  the  Erie  Rail-road  is  one  of 
the  grandest  achievements  of  modem  intellect.  More  may 
be  said.  It  is  one  of  the  greatest  works  the  world  has  ever 
known.  We  are  accustomed  to  look  with  solemn  awe  on 
the  pyramids  of  Egypt,  and  to  wonder  what  Herculean  pow- 
er reared  their  colossal  forms  ;  we  regard  with  astonishment 
the  ancient  aqueducts,  whose  ruins  attest  their  magnificence, 
and  all  ages  since  they  were  built  have  been  accustomed  to 
admire  the  Roman  military  and  other  roads,  and  do  homage 
to  the  genius  and  daring  of  their  designers  and  constructors. 

But  should  a  new  nation  or  a  new  race  two  thousand 
years  hence  find  in  the  solitude  where  now  the  Starrucca 
flows  to  the  Susquehanna  the  remains  of  the  viaduct  of 
the  Erie  Road,  or  stumble  suddenly  on  the  evidence  that 
the  Cascade  ravine  had  been  spanned  by  a  bridge  and  iron 
rail,  or  trace  through  mountain  fastnesses,  across  deep  valleys 
and  strong  rivers,  for  five  hundred  miles,  the  track  of  this 
splendid  road  of  the  men  of  the  nineteenth  century,  doubt- 
less that  new  race  or  nation  would  do  more  homage  to  our 
memory  than  we  have  done  to  that  of  any  former  period  in 
the  history  of  our  world. 

A  2 


lU 


(JUIDK-IJOOK   OF  THE 


AYe  live  in  an  age  of  womleriul  ^vol•ks  of  man,  and  are 
therefore  apt  to  disregard  the  evidence  of  his  immense  pow- 
er M'hich  every  day  furnishes  us.  The  pyramids  are  me- 
morials of  a  tremendous  exertion  of  force  ;  but  the  simplest 
discoveries  of  science  explain  the  methods  used  to  build  them. 
Patience  and  a  lever  would  move  Mount  Washington ;  but 
the  man  of  the  nineteenth  century  would  not  pause  to  move 
it  out  of  Ills  way,  but  would  penetrate  and  pierce  through  it. 

The  Erie  Road  is  the  greatest  achievement  of  this  age  of 
rail-roads.  No  one  who  has  not  gone  over  it  frequently  can 
fully  appreciate  the  truth  of  this  remark.  No  one  who  did 
not  know  the  route  before  it  was  projected  can  have  any  idea 
of  it.  It  passes  through  sections  of  country  that  it  would 
have  been  and  was  thought  insanity  to  talk  of  building  a 
rail-road  through.  It  crosses  mountains  deemed  impassa- 
ble ;  it  goes  over  valleys  which  timid  men  said  it  would 
cost  billions  to  fill  in  ;  it  leaps  ravines  where  bold  engineers 
paused,  shook  theu'  heads,  and  turned  back.  It  reaches  from 
the  Hudson  to  the  great  Lakes,  now  by  the  side  of  the  lordly 
Delaware,  now  by  the  placid  Susquehanna,  now  by  the  yel- 
low Chemung,  and  now  by  the  swift  Alleghany.  The  tour- 
ist never  wearies  of  looking  at  the  splendor  of  the  scenery 
around  him  until  he  finds  himself  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Erie, 
looking  at  its  green  waves,  and  a  glance  at  his  map  leaves 
him  astounded  at  the  distance  he  has  achieved  over  such  a 
country. 

It  is  to  introduce  this  route,  whether  to  the  tourist  or  the 
quiet  reader  at  home,  that  this  work  is  designed. 

In  connection  with  the  internal  improvement  system 
of  New  York,  many  curious  facts  may  be  found  by  look- 
ing into  the  Statute-book  of  the  Colony  of  New  York — 
instructive  as  to  the  beginning  of  the  great  rail-road  and 
canal  system  which  is  now  nearly  completed,  and,  from 
the  various  connections  between  the  port  of  New  York 
and  the  Lakes,  ultnnately  to  be  extended  to  the  Pacific 
Ocean.    In  the  lime  of  Queen  Arme,  the  Assembly  of  the 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


11 


Colony  of  New  York  appropriated  the  sum  of  £500  to 
John  Smith  and  some  other  persons  for  the  purpose  of 
constructing  a  pubhc  road  leading  from  New  York  to  the 
"West,  and  the  appropriation  was  coupled  v/ith  the  condi- 
tions that  within  two  years  from  the  time  of  the  passage 
of  the  act  the  beneficiaries  should  have  constructed  the 
road,  wide  enough  for  two  carriages  to  pass,  from  Nyack 
on  the  Hudson  River  to  Sterling  Iron-works,"  a  distance 
of  twenty  or  thirty  miles ;  and  that  they  should  cut  away 
the  limbs  of  trees  over  the  track,  so  as  to  allow  the  car- 
riages to  pass.  That  was  the  beginning  of  the  internal  im- 
provement system  of  the  State  of  New  York,  which,  after 
the  lapse  of  more  than  0116  hundred  and  twenty  years,  has 
proceeded  no  further  than  to  open  a  canal  and  two  rail-roads, 
one  of  which  is  completed,  and  the  other  nearly  so,  from  the 
city  of  New  York  to  Lake  Erie. 

The  Legislature  of  New  York,  at  their  session  of  1825 
(the  Erie  Canal  having  been  opened  in  1824),  directed  a 
survey  of  a  "  State  Koad,"  to  be  constructed  at  the  pubhc 
expense,  through  the  southern  tier  of  counties,  from  the 
Hudson  River  to  Lake  Erie.  The  unfavorable  profile  ex- 
hibited in  the  survey,  the  discordant  views  and  interests, 
resulted  in  the  abandonment  of  the  project.  The  subject 
did  not,  however,  cease  to  occupy  the  attention  of  many, 
and  the  manifest  and  growing  benefits  of  the  canal  did  but 
increase  the  conviction  in  the  southern  tier  of  counties  of  the 
importance  and  necessity  to  them  of  an  equivalent  thorough- 
fare. 

At  length  "The  New  York  and  Erie  Rail-road  Com- 
pany" was  incorporated  by  the  Legislature,  on  the  24th 
of  April,  1832,  with  power  to  constmct  a  rail-road  from 
the  city  of  New  York,  or  some  point  near,  to  Lake  Erie, 
to  transport  persons  and  property  thereon,  and  to  regulate 
their  own  charges  for  transportation.  Since  that  period, 
every  succeeding  year  has  added  to  the  force  of  all  the 
considerations  in  favor  of  such  a  thoroughfare  ;  the  popu- 


12 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THl:: 


lalion,  trade,  an^  wealth  of  this  city,  and  of  this  and  the 
Western  States,  and  the  intercourse  between  New  York 
and  the  region  of  the  Lakes,  have  been  vastly  augment- 
ed ;  and  the  necessity  of  greater  facihties  for  constant  and 
rapid  communication  throughout  the  whole  year  have  be- 
come more  and  more  evident,  especially  since  the  means  oi" 
such  communication  have  been  in  progress  on  several  more 
southerly  routes,  between  the  w^aters  of  the  Atlantic  and  the 
Ohio  E-iver. 

No  survey  of  the  route  had  been  made  prior  to  the  act 
of  incorporation  ;  but  in  the  summer  of  1832,  a  reconnois- 
sance  was  conducted,  under  the  authority  of  the  govern- 
ment of  the  United  States,  by  Col.  De  Witt  Clinton,  Jr., 
which  resulted  in  presenting  strong  inducements  for  obtain- 
ing a  more  complete  and  accurate  instrumental  survey  of  the 
whole  line. 

In  1833,  $1,000,000  was  subscribed  to  the  capital  stock, 
and  the  company  organized  in  August  for  active  operations, 
by  the  election  of  directors  and  officers.  In  1834,  an  ap- 
propriation for  the  survey  of  the  route  was  made  by  the 
Legislature,  to  be  conducted  under  the  authority  of  the 
state  government,  and  Governor  Marcy  appointed  Benjamin 
Wright,  Esq.,  to  conduct  the  survey.  During  the  year,  a 
survey  was  made  of  the  whole  line,  483  miles  in  length,  and 
complete  maps  and  profiles,  with  the  report  and  estimates 
of  Judge  Wright,  were  deposited  in  the  office  of  the  Secre- 
tary of  State. 

At  the  time  this  report  w^as  made,  much  was  said  in 
the  Legislature  and  in  the  public  prints  to  discourage  the 
undertaking  "as  chimerical,  impracticable,  and  useless." 
The  road,  it  was  declared,  could  never  be  made,  and,  if 
made,  would  never  be  used.  The  southern  counties  were 
asserted  to  be  mountainous,  sterile,  and  worthless,  affording 
no  products  requiring  a  road  to  market,  or  if  they  did,  that 
they  ought  to  resort  to  the  VaUey  of  the  Mohawk  as  their 
natural  outlet  ! 


NEW   YORK  AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


13 


The  favorable  results  of  the  state,  survey  dispelled  all 
reasonable  doubts  of  the  feasibility  of  the  improvement, 
and  measures  were  taken  preparatory  to  further  and  more 
active  operations.  An  additional  amount  was  subscribed 
to  the  capital  stock,  amounting,  with  the  previous  sub- 
scription, to  $2,362,100.  The  entire  route  was  resur- 
veyed  in  1836,  and  a  part  of  the  road  located  and  com- 
menced. 

But  the  commercial  revulsion  and  universal  derangement 
of  the  currency  of  the  country  about  the  close  of  1836  oc- 
casioned a  suspension  of  the  work  until  1838,  when  the 
Legislature  modified  the  law  of  1836,  granting  to  the  com- 
pany, in  aid  of  its  construction,  a  loan  of  the  credit  of  the 
state  for  $3,000,000.    At  the  session  of  the  Legislature  in 

1840,  the  Loan  Bill  was  further  amended,  and  this,  together 
with  the  collections  on  the  stock  subscriptions,  enabled  the 
company  to  locate  and  vigorously  prosecute  the  work  on  a 
distance  of  300  miles  of  the  road. 

The  first  portion,  a  section  of  46  miles,  from  Piermont 
to  Goshen,  was  put  in  operation  on  the  23d  of  September, 

1841.  In  1842,  under  its  complicated  embarrassments, 
arising  from  the  nature  and  amount  of  its  indebtedness, 
the  affairs  of  the  company  were  placed  in  the  hands  of 
assignees.  After  encountering  many  obstacles  and  em- 
barrassments attending  and  following  the  suspension  of 
the  work,  and  after  various  efforts  to  obtain  the  means 
necessary  to  extricate  the  company  from  its  difliculties, 
and  to  a  resumption  of  the  work,  the  law  was  passed  by 
lhe  Legislature,  14th  of  May,  1845,  relating  to  the  con- 
struction of  the  road,  ^he  release  of  the  state  claim,  sub- 
scriptions to  the  stock,  &c.  The  Board  of  Directors,  in 
no  little  anxiety  .  about  the  result,  entered  upon  the 
discharge  of  their  responsible  duties  of  resuscitating  a  work 
which  is  destined  to  add  permanent  wealth  and  prosperity 
to  the  city  and  state,  and  presented  a  plan  to  the  public 
which  placed  th.e  M'ork  in  a  position  to  be  successfullv 


14 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


prosecuted  to  completion.  The  ai)i)eal  was  responded  to  by 
the  merchants  and  business  men  of  New  York,  and  the  sub- 
scription of  $3,000,000  to  the  capital  stock  was  speedily 
filled  up.  Successive  portions  of  the  road  were  put  in  opera- 
tion from  time  to  time,  until,  in  the  spring  of  1851  (May 
11),  amid  the  firing  of  cannon,  that  reverberated  through  all 
the  southern  tier  of  counties,  and  the  shouts  of  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  the  inhabitants,  who  lined  the  road  at  all  the 
stations  from  E-ockland  to  Chautauque,  two  trains  of  cars 
conveyed  the  President  of  the  United  States,  the  immortal 
"VYebster,  and  a  large  and  noble  company  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished citizens  of  America  as  guests  of  the  gratified  and 
justly-proud  directors  of  the  road,  from  the  Hudson  to  Lake 
Erie. 

The  \ATitcr  of  this  well  remembers  the  strange  scene  pre- 
sented along  the  line  of  the  road  on  that  memorable  evening  of 
the  27th  of  December,  1818,  when  was  celebrated  the  operdng 
as  far  as  Binghamton.  To  him  the  country  had  long  been 
familiar  as  hunting-ground,  and  it  was  a  sort  of  sacrilege 
in  his  view  to  build  a  rail-road  through  the  haunts  of  the 
deer.  Old  hunters  that  he  had  known  in  the  forest  solitudes 
stood  at  Deposit,  in  the  snow-storm,  lit  up  by  the  tar-barrels, 
leaning  on  their  rifles,  and  watching  with  curious  eyes  the 
apparition  of  the  iron  steed  and  his  splendid  train.  Troops 
of  girls  entered  at  one  end,  and  walked  through  the  whole 
row  of  cars,  gazing  with  astonishment  at  the  velvet  seats 
and  the  cloaked  citizens,  who  were  no  less  astonished  at  the 
bright  eyes  and  rosy  cheeks  that  Delaware  county  could  turn 
out  in  a  winter  storm  to  welcome  strangers.  It  was  a  new 
era  in  the  history  of  the  southern  part  of  the  State,  and  men 
said  it  was  folly  to  build  an  iron  road  through  Sullivan,  Del- 
aware, and  Broome  counties. 

But  time  has  shown  that  it  was  no  false  calculation  that 
promised  a  splendid  result  to  the  enterprise.  Step  by  step, 
mile  by  mile,  over  mountains,  across  valleys  on  airy  viaducts, 
from  Iho  river  to  the  great  lakes,  the  work  \A'as  at  Icjiirth 


NEW    YORK    ANU   Ell  IE  IIAIL-UOAIJ 


15 


■.iccomplishcd,  and  immediately,  as  it'  a  magic  waad  had 
touched  the  great  West,  roads  connecting  with  it  sprang  into 
existence,  leading  to  every  state  in  the  Union  north  of  the 
Ohio  and  Missouri,  and  the  wealth  of  the  great  northwest 
was  poured  into  the  lap  of  New  York. 

St.  Louis  formerly  bought  goods  at  New  Orleans.  Now 
it  comes  to  us.  Illinois  bought  at  St.  Louis.  Now  it  pur- 
chases on  the  Atlantic  coast.  Ohio  went  bodily  to  Cincin- 
nati for  its  supplies.  Cincinnati  itself  now  seeks  them  in 
the  metropolis  of  the  Empire  State. 

All  honor,  therefore,  to  the  men  who  projected  and  the 
men  who  built  the  Erie  Rail-road. 

The  general  features  of  the  route  can  not  be  summed  up 
in  one  paragraph.  There  is  no  variety  of  scenery,  grand  or 
calm,  magnificent  or  placidly  beautiful,  that  is  not  presented 
at  one  or  another  point  on  the  road.  Leaving  the  Hudson 
at  Jersey  City  or  at  Piermont,  it  passes  across  Rockland  and 
Orange  counties  to  the  Delaware  River,  which  it  strikes  at 
Delaware  Station.  The  boldest  scenery  on  the  road  is  in 
the  next  ninety  miles,  in  which  the  road  follows  the  winding 
bank  of  this  river.  It  then  crosses  the  summit  to  the  Sus- 
quehanna, and  continues  through  the  southern  tier  of  coun- 
ties to  Lake  Erie. 

The  length  of  the  road,  as  now  run  from  Jersey  City,  is 
459^  miles.  As  may  well  be  imagined,  it  requires  an  army 
of  men  to  take  care  of  its  numerous  afTairs  and  do  the  labor 
on  the  line.  Some  idea  of  the  magnitude  of  its  aflairs  may 
be  gathered  from  the  following  facts,  which  refer  to  the  state 
of  the  road  in  the  year  ending  September  30,  1854  : 


Number  of  engines   183 

Number  of  cars   2,935 

Miles  run  by  engines   2,963,484 

Average  miles  run  by  each  engine   16,194 

Average  miles  run  each  day   8,119 


Tons  of  freight  carried  in  cars,  743,250,  or  an  amount  equal 
to  130,808,034  tons  carried  one  mile 


IG 


GUIDK-BOOK  OF  THE 


Number   of  passengers  carried,    1,125,123,   or   equal  to 


99,663,709  passengers  carried  one  mile. 

Length  of  road  :  !Main  line   445  miles. 

Newburgh  Branch   19 

Double  tracli   262 

Total  miles  of  Rail-road   726  " 

Cost  of  road  and  equipment,   $33,439,431  40,  or  about 
$46,000  per  mile  of  road  laid. 

Earnings  for  year  1654   $5,359,958  08 

Expenses     "         "    2,742,615  57 

or  51.16  per  cent,  nf  the  earnings. 

Number  of  employes  about   4000 

"  "         at  Susqueharnia  shop   203 

"  Piermont  "    230 

Dunkirk  "    115 

car-repah-ers   134 

Total  number  of  employes  repamng  engines  and  cars  682 


The  road  is  laid  Avith  the  wide  gauge,  that  is  to  say,  the 
rails  are  six  feet  apart,  thus  afibrding  broad  cars,  which  are 
more  airy  and  pleasant,  the  scats  for  two  persons  being  am- 
ply wide  enough  for  three. 

There  is  a  feature  connected  with  this  road  which  we  be- 
lieve no  other  road  in  the  Union  possesses,  and  which  facili- 
tates all  its  operations,  enables  the  superintendents  to  preser^T- 
the  regularity  of  their  trains,  and  insures  the  passenger,  to  a 
great  extent,  against  the  danger  of  collision  with  other  trains 
in  motion  on  the  road.  This  is  the  company's  telegraph 
line,  which  runs  by  the  side  of  the  road,  and  has  its  opera- 
tor in  every  station-house.  By  this  means  a  perfect  record 
is  kept  of  the  time  and  place  of  every  train  on  the  whole  460 
miles  of  road,  and  every  station  has  a  book  in  which  this  is 
written  as  fast  as  received,  so  that  no  error  can  occur.  The 
vast  benefits  resulting  from  this  arrangement  can  hardly  be 
appreciated  by  one  who  has  not  seen  them  and  experienced 
them.    An  instance  of  its  use  in  small  matters  may  be  given. 

Not  long  since,  the  writer  was  going  -west  in  an  express 


XEW    YORK  AllD   ERIE  RAIL-KOAD. 


17 


train,  and  had  just  left  Susquehanna,  when  the  conductor 

came  up  to  him  and  asked  him  if  he  knew  a  Mrs.  who 

was  on  the  train.  "That  is  my  name,"  said  a  lady  who 
sat  immediately  in  front  of  us.  "Ah,  madam,  I  am  happy 
to  find  you,"  said  the  conductor ;  "  Mr.  Smith,  the  gentle- 
man in  whose  charge  you  are  traveling,  was  left  by  the  train 
at  Deposit,  and  I  have  received  a  dispatch  from  him,  asking 
me  to  see  that  you  are  properly  cared  for  at  Owego,  where 
he  Avill  overtake  you  in  the  next  train."  The  lady  had  not 
yet  missed  her  protector,  and  was  relieved  of  any  anxiety  by 
his  dispatch.  The  company's  rules  forbid  the  use  of  this 
telegraph  for  any  purpose  but  rail-road  busmess,  except  in 
cases  of  sickness  or  death.  By  this  means  its  use  is  secured 
for  the  safety  and  perfect  management  of  the  road.  On  ar- 
riving at  a  station  where  he  is  to  take  the  train,  the  traveler 
will  learn  immediately,  on  inquiry,  whether  the  train  is  on 
time,  or  if  not,  how  much  out  of  time  it  is,  and  the  exact 
moment  at  which  it  will  arrive. 

Having  thus  given  the  reader  a  general  idea  of  the  road 
he  is  about  to  traverse,  we  will  proceed  to  the  company's  pier 
at  the  foot  of  Duane  Street  in  New  York.  It  is  impossible 
to  reach  the  boat  without  pausing  to  wonder  at  the  masses 
of  freight  lying  in  the  immense  building  which  covers  this 
pier,  and  the  variety,  which  shows  the  immense  tract  of 
country  that  the  Erie  Road  commands.  Here  are  merchan- 
dise, dry  goods,  and  groceries  marked  for  St.  Louis,  Cincin- 
nati, St.  Paul,  Lake  Superior,  Milwaukie,  and  Fond  du  Lac, 
besides  a  thousand  nearer  places.  Here  are  butter,  cheese, 
venison,  grain,  leather,  stock,  and  produce  of  every  kind,  and 
at  the  up  town  piers  are  cattle,  sheep,  hogs,  and  other  ani- 
mals, while  the  lumber  has  been  scattered  over  the  city  to  a 
hundred  convenient  points. 

The  milk-cans  will  attract  the  most  attention,  for  one  large 
item  of  the  business  of  the  eastern  section  is  the  bringing  of 
milk  to  the  city,  and  a  special  train  is  nm  for  this  purpose 
every  night. 


18 


GUII)l>r>OOK   OF  TIIK 


Before  taking  the  cars,  it  may  be  well  to  oiler  some  sug- 
gestions to  the  traveler  for  pleasure,  which  will  enable  liini 
to  divide  liis  time  to  most  advantage,  and  see  the  most  of  the 
beauties  of  the  route  he  is  about  to  traverse. 

We  would  suggest,  therefore,  that  he  make  his  first  day's 
journey  extend  as  far  as  Port  Jervis,  and,  after  resting  in  the 
Valley  of  the  Neversink,  go  the  next  day  to  Susquehanna, 
drive  down  to  Lancsborough,  and  pass  a  niglit  at  a  quiet  little 
inn,  and  devote  the  forenoon  to  the  examination  of  the  via- 
duct over  the  Starrucca  Valley  and  the  Cascade  Bridge. 
Having  done  this,  he  wdll  be  prepared  to  take  an  afternoon 
train,  on  his  third  day,  from  Susquehanna  to  Binghamton, 
Owcgo,  or  Elmira,  where  he  will  pass  the  night.  The  next 
day  he  should  go  on  as  far  as  Hornellsville,  and  take  the  Buf- 
falo Road  to  Portage.  At  this  place  he  will  have  calculated 
on  staymg  a  day,  and  will  probably  be  tempted,  by  the  gran- 
deur of  the  scenery,  to  remain  nearer  to  a  week.  He  should 
then  return  to  Hornellsville  and  ride  over  the  road  to  Dunkirk. 
The  question  is  frequently  asked,  wdiich  side  of  the  car  is 
preferable  to  sit  on.  It  is  impossible  to  select  one  as  prefer- 
able to  the  other  for  the  entire  route,  though  one  side  is  often 
shut  in  for  many  miles  by  the  side  of  a  momitain,  while  from 
the  other  the  view  is  grand. 

From  New  York  to  Middletowii  there  is  no  choice  what- 
ever. From  Middletown  to  the  bridge  beyond  Mast  Hope, 
where  the  road  returns  from  Pennsylvania  into  New  York- 
across  the  Delaware,  the  right-hand  side  presents  one  con- 
tinuous scene  of  changeable  beauty,  grandeur,  and  magnifi- 
cence, while  from  the  left  is  visible  almost  nothing.  From 
this  bridge  to  Deposit  the  left-hand  side  is  again  to  be  chosen, 
as  the  right  is  shut  in  by  the  mountain  side  all  the  way. 
From  Deposit  to  Susquehaima  the  right-hand  side  is  to  be 
selected  for  the  splendid  burst  of  beauty  after  crossing  the 
Cascade  Bridge,  of  which  we  shall  speak  in  its  place. 

There  are  a  few  points  on  the  road  wlioro  we  desire  before- 
liaml  to  direct  the  traveler  to  he  "  lookiiifj  out.  "  or  he  will 


NEW   YORK  AND   ERIE  RAlL-ROAD 


19 


miss  instantaneous  views  that  are  worth  a  journey  to  catch 
a  ghmpse  of.  The  first  of  these  is  on  the  right  hand,  after 
passing  Otisville.  The  second  is  on  the  left,  as  we  go  olFfrom 
the  Delaware  Bridge  west  of  Port  Jervis,  or  Delaware  Sta- 
tion, where  the  view  down  the  river  at  the  end  of  the  bridge 
is  lost  almost  instantly,  but  may  be  seen  less  distinctly  a  few 
moments  later,  as  the  road  turns,  by  looking  back  on  the 
right.  Again  at  Shohola  on  the  left,  and  then  on  the  right 
at  Lackawaxen,  to  see  the  canal  crossing  the  aqueduct,  as 
the  cars  pass  immediately  abreast  of  it. 

On  the  approach  to  the  Cascade  Bridge,  west  of  Deposit,  the 
scene-seeker  must  be  ready  to  look  down  into  the  ravine  on 
either  side  as  he  crosses  it,  and  he  may  catch  a  view  of  the 
cascade  through  the  trees  on  the  left,  and  then,  a  few  mo- 
ments later,  on  the  right  he  wall  have  the  splendid  view  up 
the  Valley  of  the  Susquehanna. 

"With  these  remarks,  we  are  prepared  to  accompany  the 
traveler  on  the  route. 

When  the  road  was  built,  it  was  designed  to  run  from  Pier- 
mont,  on  the  Hudson ;  but  the  necessity  of  coming  to  New 
York  being  more  and  more  manifest,  an  arrangement  was 
made  with  three  rail-road  companies,  the  Union,  the  Ram- 
apo  and  Paterson,  and  the  Paterson  and  Jersey  City,  by 
which  passengers  were  conveyed  to  and  from  Is  ew  York  and 
Sujfern's  Station,  on  the  Erie  Road,  over  those  roads,  by  way 
of  Jersey  City.  Subsequently  this  arrangement  was  made 
more  perfect,  and  by  a  contract  made  in  1852  between  those 
companies  and  the  Erie  Rail-road  Company,  those  roads  were 
relaid  with  the  six-foot  track,  and  now  the  cars  of  the  Erie 
Road  run  to  and  from  Jersey  City,  the  Piermont  extension 
from  Sufiern's  being  used  solely  for  freight  and  local  travel. 

Passengers,  therefore,  take  the  ferry-boat  at  the  company's 
wharf  at  Duane  Street  in  New  York,  where  their  baggage 
is  received  and  checked.  In  the  station-house  at  Jersey  City 
they  find  the  wide  cars  of  the  broad  gauge,  and  immediately 
leave  the  Hudson 


20 


GUIDL-HUI^K  OF  THM 


For  two  iiiiies  liio  track  is  ideiilical  with  tlie  New  Jersey 
Raii-road  and  Traii.<portatioii  Company's  track,  through  the 
deep  rock  cut  of  Bergen  Hill.  The  six-foot  gauge  is  arranged 
by  the  laying  of  an  extra  rail.  This  road  is  the  great  tunnel 
of  travel  into  New  York  city  and  state,  and  that  over  which 
eveiy  one  goes  who  travels  from  any  part  of  New  York  or  New 
England  to  Philadelphia,  Washington,  or  the  South.  There 
is  no  rail-road  in  the  United  States  over  which  there  is  an 
amount  of  travel  equal  to  that  which  passes  through  Bergen 
Hill,  on  what  is  commonly  called  the  Philadelphia  Road. 

Leaving  the  deep  cut,  we  see  before  us  the  Hackensack 
River,  and  here  leave  the  Philadelphia  Road  to  the  left, 
which  crosses  the  river  on  the  bridge,  now  visible,  and  pro- 
ceeds to  Newark,  the  spires  and  buildings  of  which  may  be 
seen  plainly,  at  six  miles'  distance,  across  the  Jersey  Flats. 

Vie  cross  the  Hackensack  River  by  a  piled  bridge,  6  J  miles 
from  Jersey  City,  and  three  miles  farther  on  pass  the  little 
station  at  Boiling  Spring,  so  called  from  a  fine  spring  of 
water  near  the  side  of  the  road. 

We  here  leave  the  Flats  of  New  Jersey  and  enter  a  farm- 
ing country,  possessing  much  natural  beauty.  Three  miles 
farther  on  the  road  crosses  the  Passaic  River  at  the  pleasant 
little  village  of 

Aquack^vnonk.  This  is  12  miles  from  New  York,  and  is 
a  fine  specimen  of  a  New  Jersey  village.  Four  miles  and  a 
half  bring  us  to 

Paterson,  one  of  the  finest  cities  in  New  Jersey.  The 
road  passes  through  the  eastern  part  of  the  town,  and  gives 
the  traveler  but  a  poor  idea  of  the  place,  except  from  the  view 
which  he  has  of  the  elegant  grounds  of  Roswell  Colt,  Esq., 
on  the  left  of  the  train  as  it  approaches  the  station.  This  is 
a  manufacturing  town,  and  has  a  population  of  over  2000. 
There  are  extensive  locomotive  manufactories  here,  where 
have  been  built  many  of  the  finest  engines  on  the  principal 
roads  in  the  country.  The  Falls  of  the  Passaic  River  in 
former  years  were  the  chief  attraction  of  Paterson,  and  the 


NEW  YORK  AND  EKIE   RAlL-ROAD.  21 

place  Avhere  the  Falls  once  were  is  still  worth  a  visit.  But 
most  of  the  water  which  formerly  ran  over  them  is  now 
drawn  off  to  work  the  wheels  of  the  mills,  and  it  is  only  in 
a  very  wet  season,  or  after  a  flood  of  rain,  that  there  is  much 
of  a  waterfall  visible  here. 

At  Paterson  the  road  passes  to  the  track  of  the  Paterson 
and  Ramapo  Road,  and  continues  on  it  to  the  line  of  New 
York  State,  when  it  again  changes  to  the  Union  Company's 
track.  As  we  have  before  remarked,  these  several  roads  are 
all  laid  with  the  broad  gauge,  and  there  is  no  change  of  cars 
at  any  point  on  the  road. 

GoDWixviLLE,  5^  miles  from  Paterson  and  21 J  miles 
from  Kew  York,  is  a  small  station,  not  demanding  special 
notice. 

^  HoHOKus,  23^  miles  from  New  York,  is  a  pleasant  station 
in  one  of  the  loveliest  parts  of  New  Jersey. 

Allendale,  25^  miles  from  New  York,  and 

Ramsey's,  27^  miles  from  New  York,  are  stations  of  little 
importance.  The  farms  are  rich  and  fine-looking  until  we 
approach  Sufiern's.  r- f^~  ,,,  ,L     /  "^'C         -^1  jl-^'-^  ^' 

The  traveler  will  now  observe  the  rapid  change  in  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  country.  From  the  quiet  farm-lands  of  New 
Jersey,  he  is  passing  into  mountain  defiles,  Avhich  begin  to 
close  around  him  until  he  is  in  one  of  the  most  picturesque 
of  mountain  scenes,  and,  after  crossing  into  New  York  State, 
he  goes  but  half  a  mile  on  the  Union  Road,  w^hen  he  reaches 
the  track  of  the  Erie  Rail-road  at  Siif  ern's. 

At  this  point  we  will  return  to  New  York,  and  take  the 
old  route  via  Piermont,  that  the  reader  may  be  thoroughly 
informed  of  the  entire  eastern  section  of  the  road. 

Taking,  the  steam-boat  at  the  pier,  we  go  up  the  Hudson 
24  miles  to  Piemiont.  In  leaving  this  route,  while  the  road 
has  gained  in  the  matter  of  time  and  convenience,  there  is  a 
loss  to  the  pleasure  traveler,  who  can  never  see  too  often  the 
Palisades  and  the  beautiful  slopes  of  Westchester  county, 
now  covered  with  the  elegant  country  seats  of  our  wealthy 


22 


(JUlDE-liOOK   c»F  THK 


citizens.  The  lerriuiiatioii  oi"  the  roiid  at  rieriiiont  oflers  to 
view  one  of  the  most  gigantic  of  those  great  structures  which 
the  traveler  must  expect  to  sec  constantly  from  one  to  the 
other  end  of  the  route. 

The  Pier  built  by  the  company  is  one  mile  in  length, 
about  fifty  feet  wide  in  general,  but  expanding  to  three  hui> 
dred  feet  at  the  outer  extremity,  including  a  spacious  dock 
for  boats.  Large  wooden  buildings  for  the  various  purposes 
of  the  road  are  erected  at  the  end  of  the  pier,  where  the 
freight  and  passengers  are  received  and  discharged  to  and 
from  the  boats  and  cars. 

Along  the  surface  of  this  vast  pier  are  innumerable  tracks^ 
and  switches,  the  iron  veins  along  which  circulates  inces- 
santly the  life-blood  of  a  great  railway  depot.  The  land  at 
the  head  of  the  pier  is  all  made  ground  on  which  the  com- 
pany's buildings  stand. 


The  view  of  tlie  village  from  the  end  of  the  pier  is  quite 
worth  pausing  to  admire  before  taking  a  seat  in  the  cars. 

At  the  head  of  the  pier  stands  the  village  of  Piermont,  on 
the  slope  of  the  hill  and  at  its  base,  around  the  company's 
work-shops  and  engine-houses.  The  company  has  built  the 
most  of  its  own  cars  and  many  of  its  own  engines.  Every 
thing  here  presents  a  busy  appearance,  marked,  at  the  same 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE   RATL-ROAD.  'SS 

time,  with  the  order  and  regularity  that  characterizes  all 
the  departments  of  labor  under  the  supervision  of  this  great 
company. 


A  certain  amount  of  disappointment  was  of  course  felt  by 
the  inhabitants  and  landowners  at  and  near  Piermont  when 
lhe  Erie  Rail-road  Company  yielded  to  the  manifest  neces- 
sity of  terminating  their  line  in  fact,  if  not  in  name,  at  the 
city  of  New  York  ;  and  very  great  opposition  to'  this  course 
was  made  by  Rockland  county,  aided  by  not  a  little  log- 
rolling in  the  Legislature  of  the  state.  But  in  this,  as  in  all 
similar  cases,  the  demand  of  the  great  public  was  a  power  so 
strong  as  to  put  down  effectually  all  outcries  of  petty  interest. 
The  company  made  their  New  Jersey  arrangements,  and 
continued  to  run  their  freight  trains  to  Piermont,  while  they 
carried  passengers  to  Jersey  City.  A  local  passenger  train 
runs  daily  in  connection  with  the  steam-boat. 

They  did  not  remove  their  work-shops  from  Piermont,  and 
it  is  not  probable  that  they  ever  will. 

In  these  work-shops  they  employ  two  hundred  and  thirty 
men  at  car  building,  engine  building,  repairing,  &c.,  &c., 
and  this  is  still  one  of  the  busiest  spots  on  the  road. 

The  embankment  on  which  the  station-house  stands  di- 
vides the  village  into  two  parts.  That  to  the  north  of  us  is 
the  main  business  street  facing  the  work-shops,  and  show- 
ing along  its  entire  length  neat  stores,  dwellings,  a  chuich, 


•^4 


GUIDE-BOOK    OF  THt; 


and  a  large  hotel,  that  gives  it  an  air  of  dignity  and  im- 
portance. Above  rise  the  steep  mountains,  up  which,  as 
we  have  said,  are  scattered  beautiful  cottages,  with  now 
and  then  an  elegant  mansion  among  trees.  Many  of 
these  itp-town  dwellings  are  occupied  during  summer  by 
city  folks,  that  find  Piermont  a  pleasant  and  convenient 
resort.  South  of  the  station,  the  village  is  built  along  the 
Sparkill,  a  sniall  creek  issuing  from  the  valley  we  are  soon 
to  enter.  The  dwellings  further  up  the  stream  are  very 
neat  and  tasty,  having  small  gardens  around  them.  Be- 
yond these,  scattered  over  the  yellow,  marshy  "  flats,"  are 
numerous  Irish  shanties,  the  fast-disappearmg  types  of 
what  Piermont  altogether  was  a  few  years  ago,  when  it 
figured  in  the  G-azetteer  as  a  "  fishing  village,  with  con- 
sidercxble  trade,  supporting  three  sloops!''  Tappan  Slote 
was  then  its  title — slote  bting,  we  believe,  the  Dutch  for 
ditch,  and  applied  to  the  pretty  stream  now  called  the 
Sparkill.  Indeed,  such  squalid  hovels,  only  two  years 
since,  offended  the  eye  in  the  midst  of  the  new  and  fash- 
ionable part  ■»£  the  village.  Now  look  at  the  wonderful 
change  wrought  in  this  "  fishing  village"  by  the  beneficent 
power  of  steam  I  The  "nets"  of  its  former  "traders"  are 
now  represented  by  the  mazy  net-work  of  iron  tracks  upon 
that  pier,  and  for  the  "  three  sloops"  are  substituted  as 
many  steam-boats,  to  say  nothing  of  the  Za?z^/-steamers 
running  up  and  jdown  that  long  track,  like  jockies  trying 
their  steeds  on  a  training-course.  The  population  is  esti- 
mated at  over  one  thousand.  The  visitor  will  find  it  well 
worth  his  while  to  ascend  the  heights  above  the  village, 
and  enjoy  the  prospects  they  afford.  The  most  striking  of 
these  is  the  map-like  view  of  the  station  and  pier,  which 
last  looks  as  though  it  ran  half  way  across  the  river.  Op- 
posite is  Mr.  Paulding's  residence  at  Tarrytown,  and  Wash- 
ington Irving's  country  seat.  The  broad,  placid  sheet  of 
the  Hudson  contrasts  singularly  with  the  noisy  hive  and 
artificial  lines  of  the  station,  while  on  the  right,  just  be- 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


iiealh  us,  winds  the  sinuous  Sparkili  among  its  grassy 
meadows.  But  listen  how  the  Knickerbockpy  thus  fe* 
licitously  hits  off  the  sights  and  sounds  of  Piermont,  after 
describing  the  bright  shores  opposite  :  "  Kark  I  the  shriek 
of  the  steam- wTiistle  and  its  white  breath  brings  us  to  the 
foreground,  and  we  look  down  upon  long,  snaky  trains  of 
freight-cars,  gliding  amid  a  labyrinth  of  iron  tracks,  and 
preceded  by  a  puffing  locomotive,  that  often  requires  the 
application  of  "a  sivitcli"  to  keep  it  in  the  proper  track  ; 
upon  groups  and  clusters  of  brick  structures  (some  of  them 
in  th^  pointed  Ionic  style  of  architecture) ;  upon  half  a 
mile  of  new  cars  and  an  acre  of  car- wheels  ;  upon  the 
smoke  of  Stygian  forges,  whence  comes  up  also  "the  clink 
of  hammers  closing  rivets  up,"  the  slow,  grinding  noise  of 
iron  planes  driven  by  steam-engines  ;  and  upon  ditchers 
"*laying  pipe"  with  as  little  regard  for  the  consequences 
of  his  labor  as  any  politician  that  ever  performed  the  same 
labor  before  them  !" 

2 


GUIDE-BUOK   OF  THE 


]N'ovlhward  \\c  Juivc  a  superb  view  of  the  Nyack  hills, 
and  tlie  fine  curve  of  the  river  between  them  and  Pier- 


iiiouL,  iuaiviiig  il  much  resemble  the  Bay  of  Naples.  The 
view,  also,  looking  westward,  embraces  a  vast  landscape, 
through  which  our  road  passes,  and  on  its  furthermost 
verge  we  may  see  the  Ramapo  Gap,  a  very  remarka- 
ble notch  in  the  mountains  of  that  valley,  17  miles  dis- 
tant. 

The  country  around  Piermont  is  full  of  historical  inter 
est  associated  with  the  Revolution.  Directly  opposite,  ana 
near  Tarrytown,  is  the  spot  where  Major  Andre  was  ar- 
rested by  the  three  militia-men  ;  and  at  Tappan,  a  village 
three  miles  south  of  Piermont,  was  the  scene  of  his  exe- 
cution. His  grave  is  still  pointed  out,  but  in  1831  the 
body  was  taken  to  England,  and  deposited  in  Westmirl- 
ster  Abbey.  In  a  work  descriptive  of  this  state,  pub- 
lished by  the  New  York  Historical  Society  in  1841,  there 


NEW    YORK  AND  ERIE  RAlL-ROAD. 


27 


is  a  very  iivteresting  account  of  the  exliumation,  and  also 
of  Andre's  execution,  as  described  by  an  eye-icit7iess. 

Our  road  leaves  Piermont  by  a  southwesterly  curve 
round  some  heavy  rock-cutting,  and  then  turning  w^est- 
w-ard,  w^e  ascend  the  valley  of  the  Sparkill  by  a  grade  of 
sixty  feet  to  the  mile.  This  grade  is  necessary  to  attain 
the  country  beyond,  and  extends,  with  occasional  levels 
and  descTents,  tw^elve  and  a  half  miles,  to  Monsey.  As 
W'C  enter  the  valley  near  Piermont,  we  have  a  beautiful 
view  of  the  Sparkill  and  the  neat  cottages  lining  its  banks, 
each  wdth  its  little  garden,  that  speaks  so  well  the  happy 
condition  of  its  occupant.  These  are  the  snug  abodes  of 
the  artisans  in  the  work-shops,  and  it  is  gratifying  to  think 
those  sons  of  Yulcan  have  such  pleasant  retreats  from  the 
smoke,  noise,  and  labor  of  the  day.  Very  soon,  however, 
this  fair  part  of  the  valley,  with  the  broad  Hudson  and 
the  noisy  village,  are  lost  to  sight,  and  w^e  emerge  upon 
an  open  country  of  poor  soil,  but  abounding  in  orchards. 
A  double  track  is  laid  upon  this  portion  of  the  road,  ex- 
tending from  Piermont  to  Clarkstown. 

Blauveltsville  (from  pier  four  and  a  half  miles)  is  the 
first  stopping  -  place 
on  our  w^ay  West. 
The  track  is  here 
crossed  by  a  substan- 
tial wooden  bridge, 
and  on  the  humble 
platform  of  the  sta- 
tion you  see  the  first 
pile  of  the  "noble 
army"  of  milk-cans 
dra\vn  up  in  impos- 
ing array  on  all  the  stations  before  us  for  sixty  miles — ra 
section  of  the  road  happily  termed  the  "  Milky  Way." 
Though  Rockland  county  furnishes  but  little  of  this  great 
staple  compared  with  that  supplied  by  her  neighbor  Or- 


28 


GUIDE-BOOK  UF  THE 


ange,  yet  she  almost  exclusively  contributes  «,notlier  lux- 
ury, which,  when  combined  with  the  lacteal  product, 
forms  a  compound  of  the  most  delicious  associations.  Her 
strawberries  are  famous  for  their  abundance  and  fine  fla- 
vor. According  to  a  statement  of  the  superintendent  of 
the  road  last  year,  a  single  train  took  down  to  New  York 
in  one  day  80,000  baskets  of  strawberries  and  28,000 
quarts  of  milk.  It  is  estimated  that  the  people  of  this 
county  receive  during  the  season  $3000  dierii  for  that 
delicious  fruit  alone.  Well  does  the  region  deserve  the 
strawberry-leaf  in  its  coronet. 

At  Blauveltsville  the  road  passes  through  a  deep  cui 
of  clay,  and  a  mile  or  two  further  passes  over  a  long  em- 
bankment, the  view  from  which  shows  the  height  Ave  have 
attained  above  the  river.  The  country  here  is  very  open, 
and,  looking  to  the  southeast,  we  can  see  the  bold  head- 
lands of  the  Palisades  stretching  away  as  far  as  Hoboken. 

Clarkstown  (from  pier  nine  miles)  is  the  second  sta- 
tion, and  is  nine  miles  from  Piermont.  It  is  a  lonesome- 
looking  spot,  though  plea- 
sant. A  platform  and  a 
brick  grocery,  the  proprie- 
tor of  which  is  also  post- 
master, constitutes  all  to  be 
seen  at  this  stopping-place. 
This  region  was  originally 
settled  by  Dutch  Hugue- 
nots. The  country  in  this 
vicinity  is  very  uninterest- 
ing and  uncultivated,  and 
its  dull  aspect  will  make 
you  look  with  the  more  in- 
terest upon  that  little  brown 
stone  Gothic  cottage  on  the 
right  of  the  road,  a  mile  and  a  half  beyond  Clarkstown. 
This  architectural  gem  is  of  two  stories,  of  elaborate  de- 


NEW   YORK  AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


29 


sign  and  finish,  and  embowered  in  trees  of  various  kinds. 
It  was  built  by  Mr.  Thorn,  the  celebrated  Scottish  self- 
taught  mason-sculptor  of  "  Tam  O'Shanter  and  Souter 
Johnnie,"  who  resided  here  for  some  months.  A  life- 
size  statue  of  Washington,  cut  by  him  out  of  a  single  block 


of  stone,  stands  in  the  garden,  facing  the  gate.  Though 
we  think  Mr.  Thorn's  genius  lay  more  in  imbodying  the 
humorous  heroes  of  Burns,  yet  this  Washington  has  much 
nobility  of  form  and  feature.  It  has  recently  been  made 
famous  by  a  decision  of  the  Court  of  Appeals  declaiing  it  a 
fixture  and  part  of  the  real  estate. 
Of  the  next  two  stopping-places, 

Spring  Yalley,  eleven  and  a  half  miles  from  Piermont, 
and 

Moxsey,  thirteen  miles,  nothing  more  may  be  said  than 
that  they  are  a  pair  of  uninteresting  settlements  growing 
up  round  the  stations,  placed  in  a  dull-looking  country 
At  Mousey  we  reach  the  summit  of  the  heavy  grade  of 
sixty  feet,  that  has  lifted  us  from  the  edge  of  the  Hudson, 
and  enter  a  descending  one  of  a  like  description,  that  ex- 
tends five  and  a  half  miles  beyond.  Unless  the  traveler 
prefers  watching  the  agility  of  the  hands  at  the  wood-j)ile 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


or  water-tank,  studying  the  faces  of  the  natives  alongside 
of  the  milk-cans  always  drawn  up  on  the  platform,  he 
had  better  take  a  nap  while  passirig  this  region.  He  must 
be  wide  awake,  however,  after  passing  Monsey,  for  there 
looms  directly  across  our  path  a  dark  curtain  of  mountains, 
rising  higher  and  higher  as  we  approach.  The  long  line 
of  its  ridge  is  soon  broken  into  what  is  called  the  Ramapc 
Gap  (the  same  as  seen  from  the  heights  above  Piermont' 
and  here,  in  its  very  jaws,  Ave  reach  the  point  at  whicli  w»3 
before  arrived  by  the  route  from  Jerf-ey  City. 


SuFFERx's  (fr^m  Now  York  32  miles,  from  the  pier  18 
miles,  from  Dunkiik  4 27 J  miles)  is  })laced  at  the  entrance 
of  the  mountain  pass,  and  has  an  imposnig  setting.  When 
the  trains  transferred  their  pa'jpcngprs  here,  it  was  a  more 
important  station  than  now.  The  I  nion  R,ail-road;  which 
is  one  of  the  three  rail-roads  over  which  the  passengers  m  Iio 
took  the  cars  at  Jersey  City  have  come  to  this  station,  is  but 
a  short  piece  of  road,  having  no  special  point  to  mark  its 
southern  terminus.  It  extends  from  Sufiern's  to  the  state 
line  of  New  Jersey,  a  distance  of  only  half  a  mile,  and  was 
constructed  for  the  purpose  of  connecting  the  Erie  Road  with 
the  Paterson  and  Ramapo  Road,  whicli  ends  at  the  state  line 
where  this  begins. 

The  station  at  Snnern's  i.s  at  tlie  foot  of  a  splendid  hill, 


NEW    YORK    AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD 


31 


winch  will  attract  the  eye  of  the  lover  of  the  picturesque,  and 
here  commences  the  grand  scenery  of  the  road. 

At  Sufiern's  we  hnd  ourselves  entering  a  region  inter- 
esting from  its  romantic  scenery,  its  abundant  iron  ore, 
its  factories  and  mills,  and  its  Revolutionary  history. 
The  Ramapo  Valley  was  the  only  route  between  Kew 
York  and  the  western  counties  during  the  Revolution. 
Many  of  Washington's  letters  were  dated  here  wdiile  en- 
camped in  1760  ;  and  this  "^:)ass"  came  near  being  the 
scene  of  a  great  struggle  during  that  eventful  period. 
Washington,  expecting  the  advance  of  the  British  troops 
from  jNTew  York  and  Jsew  Jersey  against  the  American 
forces  in  the  Highlands,  took  up  a  position  with  his  army 
a  mile  and  a  half  beyond  Sufiern's,  and  where  the  "pass" 
was  not  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide.  A  more 
formidable  position  could  not  have  been  selected  ;  but  the 
enemy  did  not  test  its  impregnability.    To  the  right  of 


the  rail-road  and  very  near  it,  the  marks  of  the  old  in- 
trenchments  are  still  visible  in  the  fosse  and  ridge  extend- 
ing to  the  mountain  to  the  north,  and  the  traces  of  the 
camp-fires  of  our  French  allies  are  perceptible  in  the 
woods  of  the  opposite  flank.    Half  a  mile  eastward  of 


tiClDE-lUHiK   OF  THE 


32 


Sufiem's,  and  to  tlie  north  ol'  tlie  road,  Irom  which  it  is 
concealed,  stands  an  old  farm-liouse — the  head-quarters 


of  Washington  when  here  with  his  army.  Though  these 
head-qiiarters"  are  indeed  legion  in  some  portions  of  the 
country,  we  regard  the  sneer  and  incredulity  visited  upon 
their  claims  to  such  an  honor  as  highly  unreasonable. 
Considering  the  length  of  the  Revolutionary  struggle,  and 
■the  ever-shifting  position  of  our  forces,  it  is  not  strange 
that  many  a  farm-house  should  thus  be  consecrated  for  all 
time  by  the  presence  of  the  commander-in-chief  The 
*'  quarters"  near  Suffern's  can  not  justly  be  deemed  apoc- 
ryphal, for,  being  so  near  the  intrenched  army,  and  being 
a  house  of  (for  that  era)  stately  accommodations,  the  cir- 
cumstantial evidence  of  its  having  been  his  head-quarters 
is  irresistible.  The  house  is  in  good  preservation,  and 
occupied  by  a  Mr.  Carpenter,  who  hospitably  entertained 
the  writer  of  this  in  an  apartment  w^here  the  father  of  his 
country  may  have  planned  those  campaigns  that  subse- 
quently achieved  our  independence.  This  interesting  relic 
belongs  to  Major  Suffern,  one  of  the  chief  land-holdeis  of 
this  region,  and  from  whom  the  station  derives  its  name. 
From  Suffern's  we  ascend  another  light  grade,  extending 
nine  miles.    Beyond  the  old  intrenchments,  the  rail-road 


NEW   VORK  AND  EllIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


33 


crosses  the  Ramapo,  a  small  stream  that,  having  led  a 
wild  but  very  useful  life  as  a  mill-brook  in  the  mountains, 
flows  toward  us  placidly  through  a  meadowy  vale  on  our 
right.  From  the  high  em.bankm.ent  here  there  is  a  noble 
view  of  the  mountain  that  forms  the  right  shoulder  of  the 
Ramapo  Gap,  called  the  Torn,  which  word  is  here  said 
to  be  the  Dutch  for  steeple.  But  as  you,  my  considerate 
tourist,  will  doubtlcso  linger  in  this  region,  you  can  see 
this  noble  peak  to  better  advantage  from  the  small  bridge 
over  the  Ramapo,  a  few  yards  north  of  the  one  we  have 
crossed,  and  Avhere  we  took  the  accom.panying  sketch. 


The  .scene  there  is  just  such  a  one  as  Durand  would  like 
to  paint — so  perfect  in  its  composition — a  happy  mixture 
of  the  gentle  and  the  wild,  the  sublime  and  the  beautiful. 
Standing  there  under  that  vine-hung  sycamore,  you  see 
the  Ramapo  coming  toward  you  through  a  sea  of  level 
meadow.    On  the  right  a  group  of  beeches  overshades  its 

9* 


34 


GU1DE-1500K   UP  THF. 


Stream,  in  which  cattle  stand  knee-deep  and  dro^^  sy.  On 
the  left  rises  a  knoll,  capped  by  a  neat  cottage  covered 
with  vine,  while  immediately  opposite  and  in  the  center 
"swells  from  the  vale" — and  I  have  no  doubt  "midway 
leaving"  any  "  storm"  that  ever  broke  on  his  Titan  breast, 
rises  the  rocky  crest  of  the  Torn — chief  of  the  Ramapo 
clan  I  His  is  no  monotonous  mound  of  verdure,  but  he 
bares  his  rocky  front,  and  shows  it  seamed  and  riven  in 
successive  layers,  that  stand  out  boldly  in  the  light,  and 
throw  deep,  mysterious  shadows  over  his  broad  bosom. 
From  the  "  steepled"  peak  of  the  Torn,  a  very  extensive 
view,  embracing  even  the  harbor  of  New  York,  may  be 
had  for  the  climbing,  and  it  is  said  that  Washington  often 
ascended  there  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  British 
fleet.  On  one  of  these  excursions,  w^e  are  also  told,  he 
lost  his  watch  on  the  summit,  and  the  legend  has  it  that 
it  is  still  going  there  on  tick  ! 

Following  up  this  romantic  valley,  we  again  join  the 
Ramapo  in  its  narrowest  gorge,  where  its  useful  M^aters 


long  since  established  the  Ramapo  Iron -works  (from 
New  York  34  miles,  from  Dunkirk  426  miles).     This  sta- 


-NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE   RAlL-ROAD.  06 

tion,  19  miles  from  Piermont,  is  one  of  the  most  interest- 
ing on  the  road,  from  the  picturesqueness  of  the  scener}- 
and  the  extent  of  the  once  thriving  works,  visible  from  the 
cars.  The  mountains  here  rise  precipitously,  leaving  but 
a  narrow  strip  of  soil  on  one  side  of  the  river,  that,  dammed 
beyond  all  chance  of  escape,  spreads  out  into  quite  a  lake, 
affording  a  great  water-power.  These  works,  for  rolling 
and  splitting  iron,  and  for  manufacturing  cut  nails,  were 
established  in  1824  by  a  company,  at  the  head  of  which 
was  the  venerable  Judge  Pierson,  the  proprietor  of  this 
territory,  who  has  resided  here  since  early  manhood.  By 
the  enterprise  of  this  gentleman,  the  valuable  iron  ore  so 
abundant  in  the  neighborhood  was  made  available  on  an 
extensive  scale.  With  plenty  of  iron  and  water  power, 
the  works  for  many  years  were  very  successful,  but  com- 
petition of  rival  establishments  injured  those  at  Ramapo, 
and  now  the  amount  of  the  business  done  by  them  is  com- 
paratively small.  This  was  the  first  establishment  in  the 
county  where  cut  nails  were  made.  Another  enterprise 
has  proved  more  successful  here.  Some  years  since  a  man- 
ufactory oi files,  was  established,  all  the  workmen  and  boys 
in  which  were  brought  from  Sheffield,  England,  and  so  far 
it  has  proved  very  successful.  A  new  building,  on  a  large 
scale,  has  since  been  erected  for  the  same  manufacture.  A 
large  cotton-mill  of  brick  was  also  established  here  by 
Judge  Pierson.  It  was  unsuccessful,  and  is  now  not  in 
operation.  It  is  sad  to  see  the  wreck  of  so  many  of  the 
liberal  enterprises  of  this  gentleman,  who  commenced  life 
in  an  humble  vocation,  has  filled  several  offices  of  public 
trust,  and  now,  in  his  old  age,  unfortunately,  has  not  reaped 
the  substantial  rewards  his  exertions  merited.  He  has, 
however,  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  success  of  the  Erie 
Rail-road,  of  which,  from  the  first,  he  has  been  the  warm 
friend  and  advocate.  Most  of  the  dwellings  of  Ramapo 
stand  on  the  stream  half  a  mile  below  us,  and  from  the 
bridge  near  the  iron-works  there  is  a  very  beautiful  view 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THt 


of  the  valley,  the  village  locked  in  by  noble  hills,  ovei  all 
of  which  the  Tor7i  shoots  up  his  rocky  head.  There  is  an 
endless  variety  of  romantic  scenery  around  Ramapo,  and 
the  broad  expanse  of  the  river  above  the  dam  gives  a  pe- 
culiar charm  to  the  landscape,  with  its  clear  surface  and 
the  frequent  pleasure-boats  reflected  in  it. 

One  mile  beyond  Ramapo  the  road  makes  a  sudden  bend 
to  the  northward,  and  emerges  upon  a  wdde,  fertile  tract, 
though  still  hemmed  in  by  a  picturesque  range  of  hills,  to 
get  out  of  which  a  stranger  would  be  at  a  loss  to  know 
how  to  run  a  rail-road.  From  the  height  just  above  this 
curve,  looking  north,  there  is  a  superb  view  of  the  valley, 
in  the  midst  of  which  lies,  two  miles  from  Ramapo,  our 
next  station, 

Sloatsburg  (from  New  York  35  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
425  miles).  This  beautiful  and  thriving  place  presents  a 
singular  aspect  to  the  traveler.  From  the  station  he  sees 
two  substantial  cotton  factories,  and  not  a  sign  of  a  vil- 
lage or  hamlet  in  sight,  the  damsels  employed  in  them 
dwelling  in  the  humble  but  neat  abodes  scattered  along 
this  "  happy  valley."  Embowered  in  noble  trees,  the  mills 
look  as  though  placed  in  a  gentleman's  park,  did  not  the 
adjacent  dingy  blacksmith  shop  show  that  the  precincts 
were  those  of  a  regular  factory.    This  establishment  was 


^EW    VORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


erected  in  1820,  the  brick  portion  in  1846,  and  are  used 
exclusively  for  making  cotton  ttvine,  of  which  important 
article  5000  pounds  are  weekly  sent  "by  rail"  to  Isew 
York.  This  improved  tvvdne  is  the  invention  of  the  prin- 
cipal proprietor  of  the  miils  and  owner  of  the  grounds  on 
which  they  stand,  Major  Jacob  Sloat,  from  whom  the  place 
gets  its  name.  Major  Sloat's  enterprise  and  mechanical 
ingenuity  have  brought  the  mills  to  their  present  flourish- 
ing condition,  and  his  good  taste  has  made  Sloatsburg  the 
fairest  portion  of  the  valley.  He  derives  his  domain  from 
his  grandfather,  to  whom  it  was  assigned  by  five  Indian 
chiefs  in  1738,  and  the  original  deed  of  conveyance  is  truly 
a  literary  curiosity,  for,  the  settler  being  from  Holland  (as, 
indeed,  were  ail  those  who  originally  came  to  this  valley), 
tlie  document  is  drawn  up  in  a  choice  lingo,  compounded 
of  Dutch  and  Indian.  If  the  tourist  stop  here,  and  pene- 
trates beyond  that  factory  and  its  grove,  he  will  see  evi- 
dences of  the  immense  influence  of  one  man's  controlling 
taste  in  the  well-fenced  meadows,  the  sacred  regard  for 
trees  that  give  the  place  its  park-like  beauty,  and  the  gen- 
eral prosperous  air  of  every  dwelling  around  him.  And 
what  nobler  certificate  of  character  can  there  be  than  in 
guch  fair  characters  of  neatness,  order,  and  industry,  writ- 


38 


t;rrDF-r><K)K  or  Tin: 


ten  upon,  a  man's  estate  ?  To  accommodate  his  neigh- 
bors, the  major  has  put  up  a  "  model  country  store,"  styl- 
ish enough  for  a  country  residence,  irom  which,  however, 
is  rigidly  excluded  all  intoxicating  drinks.  Judge  Pierson, 
of  E-amapo,  also  excludes  alcohol  from  his  estate,  and  thus 
much  of  the  order  and  prosperity  of  the  valley  may  be  at- 
tributed to  the  praiseworthy  prudence  of  these  gentlemen. 
Strangers  wishing  to  linger  here  are  surprised  to  find  there 
are  no  public  houses  for  their  accommodation,  which  may 
be  owing  to  the  indisposition  of  landlords  to  put  up  such 
without  the  privilege  of  a  bar-room,  so  ruinous  to  the  mor- 
als of  a  rural  population. 

At  Sloatsburg  the  tourist  can  take  the  stage  that  runs 
thrice  a  week  to  Greenwood  Lake,  12  miles  distant — a 
beautiful  sheet  of  water  eight  miles  long,  that  lies  on  the 
border  line  betAveen  New  York  and  Jersey.  It  lies  ro- 
mantically among  steep  mountains,  and  is  the  favorite 
resort  of  the  "knights  of  the  rod  and  line."  A  good  ho- 
tel, also,  may  be  found  there,  with  plenty  of  boats  and 
"  tackle." 

"VYe  have  said  the  original  settlers  of  this  neighborhood 
were  Dutch,  and  were  generally  considered  opposed  to  all 
spirit  of  improvement.  Until  recently,  little  was  known 
of  the  people  beyond  the  limits,  their  anti-innovation  dis- 
position keeping  them  ever  at  home.  Much  of  this  igno- 
rance of  what  is  going  on  with  their  neighbors  still  exists. 
An  amusing  instance  of  it  is  told  as  occurring  in  an  adja- 
cent community  called  Johnston,  where,  not  many  years 
back,  the  panther  and  other  wild  beasts  were  to  be  found 
Every  one,  on  first  hearing  the  present  new  style  of  steam 
whistle  used  on  the  Erie  Rail-road,  has  been  startled  by 
its  unearthly  hoarseness,  as  though  it  had  a  bad  cold,  a 
"church-yard  cough,"  so  different  from  its  old-fashioned 
ear-piercing  shrillness  of  pipe.  Soon  after  the  introduc- 
tion of  this  asthmatic  stranger  in  the  Ramapo  Valley,  the 
village  of  Johnston  was  "frightened  from  its  propriety" 


NEW   YORK    AND   ERIE    RATr^-ROAT).  3U 

by  strange,  awful  sounds  in  the  I'orests,  occurring  day  and 
night.  They  Avere  at  once  attributed  to  the  wild  animals 
holding  their  revels  in  the  woods.  It  was  believed  some 
lingering  specimen  of  the  mastodon  caused  the  row,  and 
therefore,  one  dark  night,  the  villagers,  collecting  guns, 
axes,  and  pitch-forks,  lay  in  ambuscade  for  the  monster 
at  the  hour  he'selected  for  his  vocal  exercises.  At  the 
usual  hour  the  roar  was  heard,  and  so  suddenly  and  so 
near  that  the  party  were  about  to  hurry  back  to  their  anx- 
ious wives  and  mothers,  wdien,  lo !  through  the  gloom  of 
night  issued  the  glaring  Cyclops  eye  of  the  locr^notive, 
that  treated  them  with  another  blast  from  his  hoarse 
lungs  as  he  rushed  by  them  I 

Leaving  Sloatsburg,  our  course  runs  directly  northw^ard, 
and  we  are  once  more  in  the  iron  region,  and  pass  sever- 
al works,  both  in  active  operation  and  in  decay.    One  of 


5\ 


these,  in  ruin,  is  the  most  picturesque  object  along  the 
road,  and  merits  particular  notice.  It  is  on  the  right  side 
of  the  road  (going  westward),  and  therefore,  fellow-trav- 
eler, keep  a  look-out,  for  it  can  be  seen  but  for  an  instant. 
It  is  known  as  the  old  Augusta  lyon-irorks.    The  road 


40 


(.;t:ide-ij<xjk  of  the 


makes  a  sudden  curve  near  it,  and  there  it  is  right  before 
you,  the  loneliest  and  loveliest  nook  imaginable.  The 
ilamapo  makes  two  leaps  from  a  grove  of  willows,  over 
fantastic  ledges  of  gray  rock  rising  perpendicularly  on  the 
right,  covered  with  trees  of  every  sort,  and  its  crest  brist- 
ling with  hemlock.  On  this  side  of  the  cascade  rises  a 
knoll  of  darkest  green  verdure,  and  overshadowed  with 
tall  trees.  A  wall,  mossy  and  crumbling,  separates  this 
knoll  from  a  grassy  slope  that  descends  toward  us  and  to 
the  foot  of  the  cascade,  and  on  its  bare  greensward  stands 
the  crumbling  gable  of  the  mill,  overrun  and  festooned 
with  every  sort  of  wild  vine  and  parasite,  in  the  autumn 
forming  a  matted  garland  of  the  most  brilliant  hues  thrown 
over  the  old  gray,  decayed  wall.  The  interior  of  the  ruin 
is  filled  with  a  mass  of  broad-leaved  pumpkin-vines,  with 
their  golden  globes  lodged  among  moist  old  mill-wheels 
and  other  debris,  of  deep  rich  brown  earthy  hues.  As 
this  ivied  relic  stands  immediately  in  front  of  the  cascade, 
the  foam  and  flash  of  which  are  seen  through  the  arched 
gate,  while  the  deep,  cool  shadows  of  the  ravine  power- 
fully relieve  the  gay-mantled  gable,  the  whole  picture 
strikes  the  eye  of  the  visitor  as  a  happy  one,  whose  inter- 
est, made  up  of  ivied  ruins  and  fresh,  romantic  brook  scen- 
ery, not  often  seen  in  our  country,  are  fully  equal  to  one 
half  the  vaunted  "ruins"  we  have  seen  in  the  Old  AYorld. 
Short  as  the  glimpse  is,  we  at  once  have  visions  of  a  pic- 
nic on  that  shady  knoll ;  and  while  the  claret  cools  on  the 
edge  of  that  mass  of  foam,  we  wander  in  fancy  with  fair 
damsels  over  that  bright  green  turf,  round  the  old  walls 
of  that  ruin  so  richly  draped  and  garlanded  I 

The  Augusta  Iron-works  were  very  celebrated  in  their 
day,  and  are  among  the  oldest  in  this  region.  The  heavy 
chain  placed  across  the  Hudson  at  AYest  Point,  to  check 
the  advance  of  the  British  fleet,  was  forged  here.  Near 
these  works  the  road  passes  through  a  heavy  rock-cutting, 
and  crosses  the  Ramapo  bv  a  substantial  wooden  bridge. 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


41 


We  now  leave  Rockland  county  and  enter  that  oi  Orange, 
of  which  the  former  was  once  a  part.  It  seems  singular 
that  the  division  was  not  made  some  six  miles,  at  least, 
further  north,  where  Nature  herself  seems  to  have  placed 
a  natural  divorce  between  Vulcan  and  Ceres,  as  repre- 
sented in  the  forges  of  Rockland  and  smiling  fields  of  Or- 
ange. As  it  is,  the  iron  god  appears  still  to  thrust  his  fin- 
gers through  the  yellow  hair  of  the  golden  goddess,  as  you 
will  see  by  the  blackened  chimneys  that  mark  the  road  for 
several  miles  in  Orange  county.  After  crossing  the  Ram- 
apo,  the  valley  expands,  though  the  cultivation  is  not  such 
as  makes  Sloatsburg  so  beautiful.  Indeed,  in  many  places 
there  is  a  primitive  wildness.  The  eye  of  the  observant 
traveler  will  not  fail  to  see  how  gradually  the  mountains 
indicate  the  improvement  of  the  soil  on  their  side.  The 
unbroken  wall  of  rock  and  forest,  that  has  followed  us  on 
each  side  from  SufTern's,  is  becoming  invaded.  The  plow 
has  evidently  made  an  assault  upon  those  heights,  and 
here  and  there,  midway  up,  the  patches  of  fields  and  an 
occasional  hut  show  that  permanent  positions  have  been 
carried. 

Monroe  Works  (from  New  York  42  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 418  miles)  is  our  next  stopping-place.  It  takes  its 
name  from  the  adjacent  iron-works  that  once  flourished 


here,  but  are  now  gi'eatly  reduced  m  point  of  work,  ex- 
hibiting another  sample  of  that  most  desolate  of  all  ob- 


42 


(iiriDE-BOOK   OF  THK 


jects,  a  ruined  mill ;  its  huge  joints,  sinews,  and  ribs,  so 
evidently  made  for  "hard  labor,"  now  lying  ill,  or  in  but 
weakly  condition,  like  a  giant  in  consumption  I  This  is 
the  last  of  Vulcan's  work-shops  we  shall  sec,  though  there 
are  many  others  in  the  neighborhood.  The  ore  used  in 
the  Monroe  Works  is  brought  from  mines  six  miles  off",  and 
is  said  to  be  the  best  in  the  country  for  cannon.  In  tak- 
ing leave  of  these  iioii-works,  w^e  must  say  a  word  about 
the  useful  little  stream  which,  for  near  a  century,  has  fed 
them  with  its  tide.  The  word  Ramapo  is  Indian,  and  is 
said  to  mean  the  ''river  of  round  ponds,''  thus  describ- 
ing the  peculiarity  of  its  origin  from  the  numerous  ponds 
among  the  hill-tops  already  spoken  of.  Ramapo,  thus 
made  up  of  the  surplus  waters  of  these  singular  mountain 
basins,  runs  through  the  valley,  and,  after  being  "  broken 
on  the  Avheel"  by  the  numerous  mills  along  its  banks, 
closes  its  well-spent  life  in  the  bosom  of  the  Passaic,  in 
Jersey. 

A  spacious  hotel,  which  is  located  near  Monroe 
Works  station,  affords  good  accommodations  to  those  wish- 
ing to  spend  the  summer  in  that  quiet  region,  and  to  those 
sturdy  pedestrians  who  care  not  to  tramp  eight  or  nine 
miles  to  Suffern's,  and  thus  examine  the  interesting  val- 
ley we  are  now  leaving. 

A  few  miles  beyond  Monroe  Works,  the  very  crest  of  the 
hill-sides  are  carried  by  the  plow,  and  the  shaven  ridge  is 
marked  with  fences  and  dotted  with  trees,  converting  the 
heights  into  the  character  of  Orange  county  summits.  We 
are  now  fairly  in  sight  of  the  "  land  flowing  with  milk  and 
butter,''  and  the  receding  hills  seem  to  bow  their  heads, 
and  sink  lovingly  in  the  embrace  of  the  wide  fields  and 
pastures  stretching  flatly  before  us.  Now  and  then,  how- 
ever, the  mountains  close  up  near  us,  as  is  the  case  on 
appiroaching  the  next  station,  called 

Turner's  (from  New  York  47  miles,  from  Dunkirk  413 
miles).    This  is  the  most  important  station  on  the  road 


NEW   YORK    AND    ERIE  RAlL-ROAD. 


43 


thus  far,  showing  some 
thing  more  than  a  plat- 
form for  idlers  and  milk- 
kettles.  Large  freight- 
houses,  and  the  numer- 
ous farm-wagons  stand- 
ing near,  show  that  this 
is  a  great  converging 
point  for  travelers  and 

 produce  to  an  important 

back  country.  The  place  was  formerly  called  Centerville, 
but  now  is  named  after  the  owner  of  a  hotel  in  the  village, 
in  the  rear  of  the  station,  where  are  also  extensive  flour- 
mills.  He  is  proprietor  of  the  surrounding  land,  on  which 
there  is  plenty  of  game,  so  that  Turner  s  is  a  favorite  re- 
sort for  a  day's  sport  to  our  city  gentry. 

The  road  now  enters  a  fine  rolling  country,  where  the 
vast  pasturages  and  scant  woods  show  that  we  are  enter- 
ing the  heart  of  the  dairy  region,  that  has  made  Orange 
county,  to  house-keepers  from  Maine  to  Texas,  a  synonym 
with  butter  and  milk  ;  and  one  of  the  largest  of  these  de- 
pots we  recognize  in  the  next  stopping-place,  the  village  of 
Monroe  (from  K&w  York  49^  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
41 0|-  miles).  This  neat  little  village,  the  largest  we 
have  reached  since  leaving  Piermont,  is  said  to  be  the 
greatest  milk  depot  on  the  road,  as  you  may  judge  from 
the  number  of  cans  waiting  for  a  down  trip  and  those  dis- 
charged. Two  hundred  cans  are  said  to  be  sent  hence  to 
New  York  every  day,  each  can  averaging  about  15  gal- 
lons. The  milk  is  furnished  in  different  lots  by  adjacent 
dairy-men,  some  of  whom  own  from  60  to  90  cows.  Deal- 
ers in  New  York  contract  for  this  article  at  two  cents  per 
quart,  delivered  at  the  depots.  Its  freight  costs  half  a 
cent  per  quart.  The  increasing  demand  for  milk  increas- 
es the  value  of  land,  and  makes  it  profitable  to  the  dairy- 
man.   The  superior  quality  of  the  milk  of  Orange  is  owing 


Gl]Dl>B(X>K    OV  THK 


to  the  peculiar  nature  of  its  grasses,  which,  with  plenty 
of  good  water  and  long  skill  in  dairy  farms,  puts  this 
county  at  the  head  of  all  pasturages. 

A  person  stopping  a  day  at  any  of  these  milk  depots 
will  soon  see  the  keenness  of  the  dairy-men  to  convert  ev- 
ery drop  of  the  staple  into  gold.  Just  as  the  California 
miner  does  not  deck  his  person  wdth  "big  sjjecimens'' — 
just  as  the  town  of  Cologne  does  not  apply  its  fragrant 
staple  to  purify  its  own  foul  self — -just  as  a  confectioner 
does  not  realize  a  child's  belief  that  he  breakfasts  upon 
candy  and  dines  upon  hon-hom,  so  the  dairy-men  of  Or- 
ange show  their  indifference  to  milk  and  butter  as  luxu- 
ries I  They  literally  do  not  know  "on  which  side  their 
bread  is  buttered,"  because  they  u^e  none,  and  to  their 
fastidious  palates,  cream  spoils  the  flavor  of  tea!  Those 
of  you,  then,  that  preserve  your  early  love  for  bread  and 
butter,  and  believe  in  the  essentiality  of  cream  to  a  cup 
of  "  China's  fragrant  herb,"  go  not  to  Orange  any  more 
than  you  would  visit  Champagne  for  a  draught  of  choice 
Sillery  I    The  effect  of  this  love  of  gain  is  to  decrease  the 


NEW    YORK    AM)   ERIE  RAlL-ROAD. 


45 


amount  of  butter  made  iii  Orange,  the  sale  of  its  ongiuaJ 
form  being  more  lucrative. 

Monroe  is  a  thriving  village,  having  several  spacious 
stores,  a  hotel  well  kept  and  comfortable,  and  contains 
about  700  inhabitants.  It  was  first  settled  in  1742,  un- 
der the  name  of  Smith's  Clove.  It  next  figured  under  the 
funny  title  of  Cheese  Cocks!  In  1802  it  was  renamed 
Smithfield,  and  at  last,  in  1808,  it  was  changed  to  its 
present  patriotic  but  universal  title,  after  President  Mon- 
roe. It  got  its  first  name  from  its  settler,  one  Claudius 
Smith,  afterward  a  notorious  chief  of  the  "Cow  Boys"  of 
the  Revolution,  who  made  the  country,  extending  as  far 
as  Ramapo,  the  scene  of  their  murders  and  depredations. 
He  was  hung  by  the  Whigs  in  1779,  and  his  son  Dick,  in 
revenge,  eclipsed  his  father  in  infamy.  In  Eager's  His- 
tory of  Orange  County,  the  reader  will  find  an  interesting- 
account  of  these  villains,  their  misdeeds,  and  the  punish- 
ment they  suffered.  ]Nio  better  materials  for  a  romance 
of  the  rogue  and  ruffian  school  can  be  found  any  where 
The  aforesaid  Claudius  Smith  vv'ould  make  a  capital  hero. 
He  was  well  educated,  had  wit,  and  a  tall,  handsome  per- 
son. Here  are  two  specimens  of  his  waggish  humor  when 
in  extremity.  Just  before  the  hangman  '■  worked  him  ofi/' 
a  person  he  had  robbed  of  some  valuable  papers  begged 
him  to  reveal  where  they  were.  "Wait  till  you  see  me 
in  the  next  world,"  was  the  cool  reply  of  Claudius,  In 
his  early  wricked  youth,  his  mother  had  predicted  he  would 
die  ''like  a  trooper's  horse,  with  his  shoes  on!''  a  proph- 
ecy the  Cow  Boy  remembered,  and  belied  by  kicking  off' his 
shoes  as  soon  as  he  had  mounted  the  scaffold. 

At  Monroe  we  again  enter  a  light  descending  grade,  ex- 
tending 14  miles. 

Oxford  (from  New  York  52  miles,  from  Dunkirk  408 
miles),  three  miles  beyond  Monroe,  is  a  neat,  thriving 
place,  situated  in  a  part  of  the  country  w^here  the  surface 
is  more  broken  into  hill  and  dale.    Looking  south  from  the 


•16 


CtUIJje-book  of  the 


station,  me  very  choicest  specimen  of  the  Orange  county 
scenery  may  be  had  here,  combining  all  the  elements  of 
a  fine  pastoral  landscape,  the  cultivated  hills  receding  in 
the  distance,  that  is  closed  up  by  the  conical  summit  of 
Sugar-loaf.  The  great  charm  about  an  Orange  land- 
scape is  the  fact  of  its  being  a  grazing  region.  In  sum- 
mer, of  course,  it  does  not  wear  the  rich  flush  which  fields 
of  grain  lend  the  prospect ;  but  then,  -again,  instead  of 
unsightly  stubble-fields,  we  see  successive  pastures,  where 
the  cattle  wander  undisturbed  over  their  rich  velvet  mead- 
ows. Two  miles  beyond  Oxford  the  road  emerges  from 
this  rolling  country  upon  a  range  of  marshy,  level  fields, 
extending  miles  in  length  and  one  mile  in  breadth. 

At  this  point  (from  New  York  54  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
406  miles)  the  branch  rail-road  to  IseAvburgh  starts  from 
the  parent  stem,  and  is  19  miles  in  length.  This  beautiful 
road  was  built  by  the  IsTew  York  and  Erie  Rail-road  Compa- 
ny, and  forms  a  part  of  their  road.  It  was  opened  formally 
on  the  8th  of  January,  1850.  Since  then,  all  the  anticipa- 
ted advantages  it  held  out  are  in  the  way  of  being  realized, 
that  is,  bringing  the  west  river  counties  into  rapid  connec- 
tion with  the  southern  tier.  Its  width  of  track  is  the  same 
as  the  main  road,  and  cost  about  half  a  million  of  dollars- 


NEW    YORK   AND   ERIE  KAIL-ROAD. 


•17 


The  marshy  flat  extending  between  this  point  of  junc- 
tion and  the  town  of  Chester,  one  mile  distant,  is  called 
Gray  Court  Meadows,  and  have  evidently  been  the  ba- 
sin of  some  great  sheet  of  water.  The  road  crosses  these 
meadows  by  a  long,  curved  embankment,  the  visible  por- 
tion of  which  is  the  least  part  of  its  expense  or  labor,  for, 
in  running  the  track  across,  the  soil  was  soft  to  such  a 
depth  as  to  render  it  necessary  to  build  the  road  upon  a 
foundation  of  huge  piles,  driven  nearly  ninety  feet  into  the 
earth,  and  six  feet  apart.  A  most  formidable  difficulty 
was  thus  overcome,  and  the  bog  is  passed  by  a  high  bridge 
of  an  enduring  foundation.  The  track  is  a  considerable 
height  above  the  meadows,  and  is  filled  in  solidly  with 
earth.  These  singular  meadows  are  very  fertile,  and  are 
principally  planted  with  corn.  A  more  extraordinary 
product,  however,  has  been  found  in  them.  Near  Chester, 
a  few  years  since,  was  found  a  very  fine  specimen  of  the 
Mastodon,  the  strange  animal  whose  bones  so  long  puzzled 
naturalists.  Many  specimens  have  been  found  in  Orange 
county,  and  in  Eager's  History  the  reader  will  find  a  highly 
interesting  accounts  of  the  various  discoveries.  The  first 
mastodon  ever  discovered  in  this  country  was  found  near 
Albany  in  1705.  The  next  was  in  Ohio,  in  1739.  In 
1740,  large  quantities  were  found  near  the  Big  Bone  Lick 
in  Kentucky,  and  carried  to  France,  where  it  was  called 
the  Animal  of  the  Ohio.  The  next  locality  richest  in 
these  relics  is  Orange  county.  The  first  of  these  was  dis- 
covered near  Montgomery  in  1782.  Twelve  more  were 
found  in  that  vicinity  up  to  1845.  The  finest  of  these  was 
found  seven  miles  east  of  Montgomery,  and  had  all  the 
bones  perfect.  It  was  33  feet  long,  and  six  feet  below  the 
surface  of  a  peat  formation,  that  extended  several  feet  be- 
low the  bones,  thus  preserving  the  natural  standing  posi- 
tion of  the  animal,  as  though  it  had  been  mired.  Many 
are  the  theories  of  hoio  these  monsters  met  their  fate,  and 
we  will  refer  the  curious  reader  to  Mr,  Eager's  compiled 


GUIDE-BOOK    OF  THE 


explanations,  as  they  will  be  found  very  entertaining.  As 
a  specimen  of  the  author's  mode  of  treating  the  subject, 
hear  the  following  points  of  diflerence  between  the  mas- 
todon and  elephant:  "The  elephant's  toes  are  built  up 
compactly  under  his  feet,  while  the  mastodon  has  long, 
projecting  toes.  The  spinal  process  of  the  latter  is  also 
longer,  thus  giving  to  his  neck  more  upright  action,  mak- 
ing him  carry  a  liigher  head  than  the  elephant,  and  giv- 
ing him  a  gay  and  comiJaratively  sprightly  o.p'pearance!'' 
To  those  w4io  have  not  "seen"  this  lively  species  of  the 
antediluvian  "elephant,"  the  author's  hints  are  quite  sug- 
gestive of  the  animal's  animated  bearing  I  We  will  also 
refer  to  the  same  book  for  a  copy  of  a  letter  written  by 
Governor  Dudley  to  the  Reverend  Cotton  Mather  in  1705, 
concerning  the  specimens  found  near  Albany.  The  gov- 
ernor suspected  the  bones  "to  be  those  of  a  human  be- 
ing whom  the  flood  alone  could  wash  aM'ay,"  and  during 
which,  for  a  w^hile,  he  might  have  "  carried  his  head  above 
the  clouds"  (of  course,  like  the  mastodon,  with  a  "gay  and 
sprightly  appearance  I"),  though  at  last  obliged  to  "give 
way  I"  He  also  thinks  this  giant  must  have  been  "the 
product  of  one  o'f  those  unequaled  matches  between  heav- 
en and  earth,  of  which  he  had  read  in  the  traditions  of  the 
Jewish  rabbins."  But  we  will  not  wade  deeper  into  this 
subject,  for  fear  of  being  mired  ourselves  ;  and  with  this 
notice  of  the  fossil  products  of  Orange  (quite  as  remarka- 
ble as  the  statistics  of  milk  and  butter),  we  will  hurry 
across  the  meadows  to  the  prettily-situated  town  of 

Chester  (from  New  York  55  miles,  from  Dunkirk  405 
miles).  This  is  the  largest  village  we  have  met  going 
•  from  Piermont,  from  which  it  is  distant  41  miles,  and  from 
its  station  presents  a  business-like  appearance.  The  vil- 
lage is  divided  into  two  parts.  East  and  West  Chester, 
separated  by  a  high  hill,  topped  with  neat  dwellings,  sur- 
rounded by  gardens.  East  Chester,  that  lies  near  the  sta- 
tion, possesses  numerous  large  store-houses,  showing  the 


NEW.  YORK   AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


49 


50  (;UlUE-BOOK    OF  THE 

southward  the  cone  of  Sugar-loaf  Mountain  towers  up  in 


bold  relief.  Chester  is  another  stopping-place  for  travel- 
ers bound  for  Greenwood  Lake,  eight  miles  distant. 

At  Chester  the  road  passes  through  the  hill  above  the 
village  by  a  deep  cut,  and  brings  us  to  the  very  heart  of 
the  county,  every  inch  of  soil  being  mapped  out  into  sheets 
of  smooth-shaven  slopes,  that  look  like  the  oldest  part  of 
Old  England.  The  farm-houses  look  neat  and  substantial, 
and,  after  an  interesting  run  of  four  miles  and  a  half,  we 
enter  the  far-famed  town  of 

Goshen  (from  New  York  59|-  miles,  from  Dunkirk  400^ 
miles).  This  is  the  first  incorporated  town  we  have 
reached,  and,  w^ith  Newburgh,  is  the  half-shire  of  the 
county.  It  is  by  fame,  if  not  in  point  of  fact,  the  greatest 
depot  of  milk  and  butter,  its  brand  being  known  through- 
out the  world.  The  town  is  situated  in  the  very  center 
of  the  county,  was  settled  in  1712,  and  incorporated  in 
1809.  The  approach  from  the  east  is  very  beautiful,  as 
the  road  reveals  a  glimpse  of  the  public  square,  neat 
churches,  and  public  buildings  interspersed  with  trees. 
We  enter  the  southern  suburbs,  and  pass  through  the  main 
business  street,  at  the  west  end  of  which  is  the  station. 
The  traveler,  stepping  back  into  this  spacious  street,  finds 
himself  at  once  in  the  center  of  a  bustling,  thriving  town — 


NEW   YORK   AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


51 


large  hotels,  extensive  stores,  and  crowds  of  country  wag- 
ons showing  the  current  of  business  done  here.    A  walk 


to  the  public  square  will  show,  too,  that  the  Goshenites 
have  great  taste  and  style  in  the  houses  of  the  quieter  por- 
tion of  the  town.  The  only  dark  feature  in  the  aspect  of 
Goshen  is  the  colony  of  negroes  to  be  found  in  its  southern 
and  western  precincts,  and  who  evidently  live  in  a  state 
of  squalor  and  idleness  not  to  be  surpassed  in  any  South- 
ern city.  They  seem  as  though  ruled  out  of  the  white 
circles  ;  the  men  looking  idle  and  dissipated,  and  the  wom- 
en filthy  and  abandoned.  Let  any  one  saunter  round  that 
locality  on  some  warm  day,  and  the  swarms  of  these  crea- 
tures visible  will  prove  the  truth  of  what  is  here  said  of 
them. 

No  community  along  the  Erie  Rail-road  has  been  more 
benefited  than  Goshen.  It  has  been  almost  made  by  it, 
and  the  same  may  be  said  of  the  whole  county.  We  have 
already  alluded  to  the  beautiful  buildings  that  ornament 
the  public  square  and  its  neighborhood.  Conspicuous 
among  these  are  the  court-house  and  the  monument,  that 


52 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


tells  of  a  story  of  great  tragic  interest.  As  this  county 
was  the  western  boundary  of  the  settlements  during  the 
Revolution,  its  history  is  full  of  stirring  events,  in  which 
the  settlers  struggled  with  the  Indians  and  their  white 
allies.  The  flame  of  patriotism  nowhere  burned  brighter 
than  in  this  region.  It  is  said  that  a  portrait  of  George 
the  Third  over  the  court-house  entrance,  the  morning  after 
the  arrival  of  the  news  of  the  first  conflict  with  the  Brit- 
ish troops,  was  torn  down,  never  again  to  reappear.  The 
monument  refers  to  a  very  fatal  and  interesting  story.  In 
1779,  John  Brandt,  the  famous  chief  of  the  Six  Nations 
and  great  ally  of  the  British,  destroyed  the  town  of  Mini- 
sink,  ten  miles  west  of  Goshen,  and  slew  those  who  could 
not  escape  by  flight.  Laying  waste  the  farms,  he  retreat- 
ed, with  immense  quantities  of  stock  and  other  booty,  to 
the  main  body  of  his  forces  on  the  Delaware.  A  body 
of  400  men  were  at  once  raised  in  Orange,  and  dispatched 
in  pursuit.  They  overtook  the  Indians  near  the  mouth 
of  the  Lackawaxen;  but  Brandt,  by  consummate  general- 
ship, dodged  the  New  York  troops,  and  getting  in  their 
rear,  finally  surrounded  them.  A  murderous  fire  from  the 
concealed  foe  at  once  threw  the  militia  into  confusion  ;  but, 
getting  behind  trees,  they  bravely  but  vainly  tried  to  beat 
back  the  fatal  circle  of  their  foes.  One  half  of  their  num- 
ber had  fallen,  the  rest  took  to  flight ;  but  thirty  only  re- 
turned to  tell  the  story  of  defeat.  Among  the  slain  were 
some  of  the  chief  citizens  of  Goshen.  In  1822,  the  bones 
of  the  slain  were  collected  and  brought  to  Goshen,  where 
they  were  buried  with  honors  of  the  most  imposing  solem- 
nity, in  the  presence  of  at  least  12,000  persons,  drawn  from 
all  parts  of  the  adjacent  country.  Among  those  present 
was  a  Major  Poppino,  a  survivor  of  the  battle,  and  then 
nearly  100  years  old. 

The  wealth  of  Goshen  and  its  surrounding  country  is 
well  known.  The  farmers  here  can  boast  of  fortunes  flow- 
ing from  the  excellent  product  of  what  he  of  the  ^'Knick' 


NEW    YORK   AND   ERJE  RAIL-ROAD, 


53 


erhocker"  pleasantly  calls  their  uddeAiQxov,^  kine  I" 
There  is  one  circumstance  that  must  strike  every  visitor 
with  surprise.  The  country  carts,  wagons,  horses,  and 
even  cattle,  which  he  sees  in  the  market-space  near  the 
station,  are  by  no  means  of  such  an  appearance  as  he  ex- 
pects to  see  in  a  region  of  such  "fatness"  as  the  land  of 
Goshen.  On  the  contrary,  one  would  suppose  he  were  in 
the  most  impoverished  district  of  Maryland,  and  he  looks 
round  in  vain  for  the  jolly  farmer,  the  plain  but  substan- 
tial wagon,  the  sleek,  well-tended,  sturdy  draught-horse, 
or  the  plump,  well-fed  kine  I  If  we  saw  such  animals 
here,  Goshen,  the  butter -knoivn,  would  indeed  be  a  can- 
nie-looking  town  I 

From  Goshen  the  road  runs  along  almost  a  level,  and 
brings  us  fairly  into  the  Valley  of  the  Walkill,  that  runs 
through  this  county  and  Ulster  to  empty  into  the  Hudson 
near  Rondout.  The  soil  along  the  Walkill  is  generally  of 
a  peat  formation,  making  extensive  marshy  flats,  called 
the  Drow7iecl  Lands,  similar  to  the  Gray  Court  Mead- 
ows, and  in  which  the  mastodon  has  been  chiefly  found. 

New  Hampton  (from  New^  York  63^  miles,  from  Dun- 


kirk 396J  miles)  is  our  next  station.  It  is  four  miles  be- 
yond Goshen,  and  stands  on  the  west  bank  of  the  Walkill. 


54 


GUIDE-EOOK   OF  THE 


It  is  simply  a  station,  consisting  of  a  large  hotel,  with  a 
few  spacious  store-houses  ;  in  fact,  one  of  the  new  places 
that  have  started  into  life  by  the  creation  of  the  rail-road, 
which  passes  the  river  by  a  strong  bridge,  A  short  dis- 
tance below  is  an  extensive  woolen  factory,  which,  how- 
ever, has  seen  its  best  days,  and  looks  somewhat  decayed. 
The  view  of  these  mills  from  the  bridge  is  interesting. 
Here  the  light  descent  of  the  road  ceases,  and  we  move 
over  an  ascending  grade  extending  several  miles. 

MiDDLETOwN  (from  New  York  67  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
393  miles),  three  miles  beyond  New  Hampton,  is  the  next 
town  in  importance  to  Goshen,  which  it  far  surpasses  in 
point  of  manufactures.  It  has  not  the  dignity  and  beauty 
of  the  latter,  having  a  habit  of  smoking  from  its  many  fac- 
tory-pipes which  Goshen  does  not  indulge  in.  It  is  situ- 
ated in  the  midst  of  a  rich,  level  country,  and  altogether 
wears  a  prosperous  look     The  most  important  branch  of 


business  done  here  is  the  production  of  stoves  and  iron  ware 
at  the  Orange  County  Foundry,  which  is  quite  an  extens- 
ive establishment,  and  supplies  the  whole  county.  This 
place  is  emphatically  the  growth  of  the  rail-road,  and  its 
rapid  increase  threatens  to  eclipse  Goshen  itself.  A  hill 
of  gradual  ascent  runs  along  to  the  north  of  the  town, 


55 


NEW   A'ORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


which,  with  its  neat  churches  and  other  prominent  build- 
ings, looks  well  from  that  eminence     The  great  number 


of  residences  scattered  along  this  height  show  the  taste  of 
the  richer  class  of  the  community. 

Leaving  Middletown,  we  soon  find  ourselves  gradually 
getting  into  a  more  rolling  and  mountainous  tract  of  coun- 
try, and  a  rocky  cut,  w-hich  we  pass  a  few  miles  further, 
prove  that  the  pleasant  fields  and  gentle  vales  we  have 
been  passing  for  the  last  hour  must  be  exchanged  for  scen- 
ery made  up  of  ''sterner  stuff." 

Howell's  (from  New  York  71  miles,  from  Dunkirk  389 
miles),  four  miles  beyond  Middletown,  is  simply  a  station, 
with  a  small  hotel  and  a  store  or  tw^o.  From  an  embank 
ment  which  we  pass  here,  there  is  a  remarkable  view  of 
the  high,  cultivated  mountain  ridge,  that  gradually  be- 
comes bolder  and  higher,  a  foretaste  of  the  chain  of  hills 
we  are  soon  to  meet  directly  across  our  path.  We  are 
noAV  approaching  the  verge  of  Orange  county.  The  rich- 
ness of  the  soil,  however,  remains  yet  manifest  in  the 
cultivation  of  these  same  hills  closing  rapidly  around  us. 
We  must  soon  bid  adieu  to  the  pastoral  features  of  the  Or- 
ange landscape,  which  we  see  in  striking  perfection  when 


56 


GUIDE-BOOK    OF  THE 


passing  over  the  curved  embankment  four  miles  beyond 
Howell's.  Looking  north  lies  before  us  a  vast  range  of 
cultivated  valley,  skirted  ^vith  blue  hills  in  the  distance, 


and  on  the  left  swelling  into  the  great  bulk  of  the  Shaw- 
angunk  Mountain,  that  heaves  skyward  its  shaven  sides. 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


57 


This  mountain  is  of  an  extraordinary  character.  There 
is  not  one  inch  of  its  eastern  side  and  its  summit  that  is 
not  of  the  highest  fertility  and  cultivation,  and  more  so  as 
you  ascend  from  the  valley,  w^hile  its  western  face  (soon 
to  be  revealed  to  us)  is  a  mass  of  rock  and  forest,  much  of 
it  unfit  for  cultivation,  and  remaining  in  a  state  of  primi- 
tive wildness.  A  short  distance  from  this  interesting  view 
we  arrive  at 

Otisville  (from  New  York  75^  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
384i  miles).  This  is  a  small  village,  named  after  its  first 
settler,  Isaac  Otis,  Esq.,  now  a  merchant  in  New  York. 
It  has  two  hotels,  and  the  dwellings  on  the  hill  above  the 


station  make  a  pretty  show  from  the  west.  It  is  an  im- 
portant station,  having  an  engine  house,  &c.  ;  and  then, 
again,  it  is  the  furthest  verge  of  the  milk  region.  The 
milk-trains  start  from  this  point,  and,  of  course,  that  fact 
gives  additional  consequence  to  the  place.  We  therefore 
take  a  last  look  at  the  cans  that  have  been  constantly  in 
our  sight  thus  far.  We  here  find  ourselves  confronted  by 
the  great  Shaivangunk  ridge,  to  pass  which  was  for  a 
long  time  considered  the  great  obstacle  to  the  progress  of 
the  road.  A  tunnel  was  first  proposed,  and  was  so  rec- 
ommended by  a  board  of  engineers,  to  be  2700  feet  in 
length,  with  grades  of  40  feet  to  the  mile  for  the  curves, 

3* 


58 


GTM1>K-BOOK    OF  TTIi: 


and  80  feet  for  the  straight  sections.  This  plan  was 
deemed  the  best  means  to  overcome  the  height  of  the 
mountains,  so  much  greater  on  the  western  side,  down 
which  it  was  necessary  to  pass  to  the  valley  below  ;  but 
it  Avas  found  that  by  making  the  road  descend  the  west- 
ern side  by  an  extensive  curve  running  south  toward  the 
Delaware  River,  the  difficulty  could  be  surmounted  with- 
out a  tunnel.  This  was  the  plan  adopted  and  executed, 
and  nowhere  can  be  found  a  greater  triumph  of  the  engi- 
neer's skill. 

Leaving  Otisville,  we  ascend  a  grade  of  40  feet  to  the 
mile,  leading  to  this  great  passage  of  the  mountain.  At 
the  distance  of  a  mile  we  come  to  the  point  where  the  first 
struggle  with  the  barrier  occurs.  This  is  a  thorough  rock- 
cutting,  50  feet  deep  and  2500  feet  m  length.  Its  pro- 
digious "  pass"  is  intersected  twice  by  a  turnpike  leading 
from  Goshen  to  Port  Jervis,  in  the  valley  westward,  which 
shows  the  roundabout  style  of  travel  made  necessary  by 
the  old  modes  of  conveyance.  Emerging  from  this  great 
cut,  we  find  ourselves  on  the  summit  of  the  ascent,  and 
the  road,  curving  southwardly,  proceeds  by  a  slope  of  many 
miles  along  the  mountain's 
side  to  the  valley  below.  We 
now  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
west  front  of  the  Shaivan- 
gunk,  in  all  its  savage  and 
untamed  grandeur.  This 
point  is  also  frequently  call- 
ed Deer-park  Gap.  The 
word  Shawangimk  is  In- 
dian, and  means  *'  white- 
rocks,'"  alluding  to  the  color 
of  the  rocks  to  be  seen  in  its 
breast  to  the  northeast.  A 
little  further  on  we  look 
doAvn  upon  the  valley  we  are  approaching — an  unbroken 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD 


sea  of  forest,  with  not  a  solitary  hut  to  humanize  the  scene. 
No  change  could  be  more  sudden  and  complete  than  what 
the  prospect  has  undergone  in  ten  minutes  since  looking 
at  the  east  front  of  the  Shawangunk.  The  ascent  of  this 
mountain  from  Otisville  is  about  two  miles  in  length,  and 
here  we  see  the  next  specimen  of  heavy  work  its  pas- 
sage has  made  necessary. 


This  is  a  heavy  embank- 
ment, supported  by  a  re- 
taining wall  1000  feet  in 
length  and  30  feet  high. 
Vie  are  now  descending 
the  slope  of  ten  miles  be- 
fore us,  and  the  scener)'"  of 
the  valley  below  is  rapid- 
ly improving  in  interest 
and  cultivation.  A  smile 
gradually  breaks  over  the 


dull  cheek  of  Nature  Farm-houses  and  meadows  relieve 
the  solitude  of  this  valley,  to  which  the  Neversink  River 
gives  its  name.  One  of  these  views  is  of  remarkable  beau- 
ty.   We  perceive  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  vale  a  shining 


strip  of  vv'ater  curving  round  a  spur  of  tlie  mountains,  with 
a  small  village  adjacent.    It  is  railed  rnddobn^k.  This 


60 


GllbK-htOOK   OV  THL 


is  the  first  glimpse  we  have  of  the  Delaware  and  Hudson 
Canal,  extending  from  Rondout  to  the  coal  and  iron  mines 
at  Carbondale,  in  Pennsylvania.  Cuddeback  was  settled 
by  the  Dutch,  and  is  one  of  the  thriving  little  communi- 
ties that  have  sprung  up  along  that  important  canal.  This 
part  of  the  valley  figures  conspicuously  in  the  history  of 
Indian  warfare.  Eight  miles  beyond  Otisville  we  come 
to  what  is  called  Shin 
Hollow  Switch.  Here 
there  is  a  deep  cut 
through  a  soft  soil 
three  fourths  of  a  mile 
in  length  and  30  feet 
deep.  This  portion  of 
the  road  is  of  the  most 
oppressive  loneliness, 
for  the  valley  is  com- 
pletely shut  out  of 
sight,  soon,  however, 
to  reappear  in  height- 
ened beauty  and  inter- 
est, after  passing  the 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


63 


great  rock-cuttiug  just  two  miles  ahead  of  us.  The  ap- 
proach to  this  last  formidable  barrier  in  the  descent  of  the 
mountain  is  very  fine.  We  reach  it  by  a  high  curved  em- 
banknient,  and  see  on  each  side  of  us  a  steep  wall  of  slate 
rock  50  feet  in  height  and  2500  feet  in  length.  And  now 
let  the  traveler  place  himself  on  the  right  side  of  the  train 
(going  westward),  to  catch  the  noble  prospect  prepared  for 
him  on  emerging  from  this  dark  pass.  At  its  very  portal 
the  road  makes  a  sudden  curve  southward,  and  from  the 
precipitous  mountain  side,  along  the  edge  of  which  we  de- 
scend, he  beholds  the  enchanting  Valley  of  Neversink  in 
all  its  cultivated  beauty,  its  w^estern  verge  bordered  by  a 
chain  of  mountains,  at  the  foot  of  which  gleams  the  vil- 
lage of  Port  Jervis,  and  its  level  fields  losing  themselves 
far  in  the  south,  where  rolls  the  Delaware  River  ;  beyond 
which,  again,  the  town  of  Milford,  Pennsylvania,  12  miles 
distant,  may  "be  seen  in  the  misty  horizon.  A  winding 
grove  of  trees  runs  southw^ard  over  this  fair  plain,  mark- 
ing the  course  of  the  Neversink.  A  few  rods  beyond  this 
"cut,"  the  traveler,  looking  north,  may  see  another  superb 
view,  of  an  opposite  character,  the  mountains  sw^elling 


upward  in  the  grandest  forms.  We  have  already  alluded 
to  the  difference  between  the  eastern  and  western  heights 
of  the  Shawangimk  Mountain,  that  of  the  west  side  being 
200  feet  more  than  the  opposite  front.    This  has  caused  a 


64 


GUIDK-BOOK   OF  THE 


singular  difference  in  the  course  of  the  streams  of  either 
valley.  The  Shawangunk  Creek,  on  the  east  side,  runs 
north  to  join  the  Walkill,  a  tributary  of  the  Hudson,  while 
the  Neversink  runs  south  to  join  the  Delaware.  The  ori- 
gin of  the  name  JS'eversink  is,  witliout  doubt  correctly,  sup- 
posed to  be  aboriginal. 

The  descent  of  the  Shawangunk  is  nearly  ten  miles 
m  extent,  and  of- 
fers  a  succession 
of  pleasing  views, 
though  becoming 
more    and  more 
contracted  in  ex- 
tent.    When  the 
slope   ceases,  our 
road  again  turns 
to  the  west,  and, 
crossing  the  Nev 
ersink  by  a  bridge  55  feet  high,  with  a  span  of  150  feet, 
brings  us  in  full  view  of  Port  Jervis,  that  lies  beautifully 


-NEW   YORK    AND   ERIE    RAIL-ROAD.  6o 

at  the  foot  of  a  range  of  bold  and  picturesque  mountains. 
Within  a  few  yards,  on  our  left,  we  have  the  first  view 
of  the  Delaware,  flowing  through  its  extensive  "  flats." 
That  river  we  are  now  to  trace  almost  to  its  source. 
One  mile  from  the  bridge  over  the  Neversink,  we  stop  at 
Delaware  (from  New  York  88i  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
37 li  miles).    This  important  station  is  situated  on  a 


broad  area  between  the  Delaware  and  the  open  iilateau 
on  w^hich  the  village  of  Port  Jer^ds  stands,  some  half  mile 
north  of  the  depot,  and  the  whole  appearance  of  the  ofli- 
ces  of  the  company,  the  engine-houses  and  other  buildings, 


conveys  a  just  idea  of  the  extent  of  the  business  done  here. 
These  have  caused  many  dwellings  and  spacious  stores  to 
spring  up  around,  in  rivalry'  to  the  village  on  the  hill,  and 
the  station  is  now  called  Port  Jervis. 

It  offers  excellent  accommodations  for  a  large  number 
of  visitors,  that  find   its  quarters  agreeable  enough  dur- 


66 


GUIDE-ROOK   OF  THE 


ing  a  sojourn  in  this  picturesque  locality.  Ascending  the 
height  to  the  village,  we  find  it  nestling  close  to  two  mag- 
nificent high  mountains,  whose  summits  beetle  over  its 
dwellings,  aflbrding  extensive  views  up  and  down  the  val- 
leys of  the  Neversink  and  Delaware.  Port  Jervis  is  named 
after  Mr.  John  B.  Jervis,  engineer  of  the  Delaware  and 
Hudson  Canal,  and  owes  its  origin  and  growth  to  that 
canal,  which  here  passes  through  it,  and,  sweeping  round 
these  same  mountains,  extends  up  the  former  river  in  com- 
pany with  the  rail-road. 

The  business  done  here  is  chiefly  in  coal  and  lumber, 
and  its  prosperity  is  written  in  the  neat  houses,  churches, 
hotels,  and  stores.  A  large  three-story  stone  grist-mill 
stands  on  the  brink  of  the  eminence  overlooking  the  sta- 
tion. A  mail  route  passes  through  from  Ulster  county  to 
Milford,  Pennsylvania,  where  the  tourist  should  not  fail  to 
take  a  drive,  to  see  the  picturesque  Falls  of  the  Sawkill 
in  its  vicinity.  There  is  every  inducement  to  stop  for 
weeks  at  Delaware.  There  are  innumerable  drives  and 
trips  for  the  pedestrian  in  every  direction,  while  to  the 
artist  there  is  every  variety  of  scenery,  from  the  bold  rocky 
peak  to  the  long,  level  flat,  with  the  clumps  of  beech  and 
willow  along  the  river  shore.  The  Delaware  here  shows 
the  dangers  that  are  covered  over  in  the  depth  and  force 
of  its  current.  In  dry  weather  its  bed  is  almost  a  mass 
of  stones,  but  the  water-marks  and  wreck  along  the  edge 
of  its  banks  prove  what  a  fullness  and  fury  attends  its 
freshets.  South  of  the  station  it  is  crossed  by  a  ferry, 
which,  when  the  river  "is  up  and  doing"  violence,  re- 
quires the  aid  of  a  guide-rope,  rigged  across  the  river  in 
an  odd  fashion.  The  curious  observer  of  such  peculiarities 
will  also  be  struck  with  the  odd  angular  dams  stretched 
across  its  current  at  low  water,  at  the  apex  of  which  is  a 
rough  wooden  trough.  This  is  the  eel-trap  of  the  Dela- 
ware, which  you  will  see  throughout  its  whole  course 
above  this  point.    The  eels  of  the  Delaware  are  renowned 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE   RAIL-ROAD.  G7 

for  their  delicious  flavor — to  those  who  like  a  fish  of  such 
"questionable  shape" — and  the  Cockney  that  dotes  on  the 
eel-pies  of  Twickenham  will  vote  the  Delaware  quite  as 
eeZegant  as  old  Father  Thames  !  A  quarter  of  a  mile 
south  of  the  Neversink  bridge  that  stream  empties  into 
the  Delaware,  and  the  narrow  strip  of  land  formed  by  this 
junction  is  called  Carpenter's  Point.  Here  the  states  of 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania  all  unite,  and 
by  putting  one  leg  on  the  small  stone  marking  the  spot, 
one  can  describe  a  pirouette  over  the  soil  of  those  three 
commonwealths.  The  tourist  is  again  solicited  to  ascend 
the  heights  overlooking  Port  Jervis,  particularly  Point  Pe- 
ter, just  above  the  upper  village,  and  the  more  picturesque 
peak  that  forms  so  remarkable  a  feature  in  the  view  south 
of  the  ferry.    A  nobler  panorama  is  not  often  seen. 

Delaware  forms  the  termination  of  what  is  called  the 
"Eastern  Division"  of  the  Erie  Rail-road,  and  certainly 
no  work  of  this  sort  presents  a  more  interesting  variety  of 
soil,  scenery,  and  local  history.  Traversing  the  romantic 
passes  of  Rockland  and  the  rich  and  fertile  fields  of  Or- 
ange, it  takes  its  way  through  some  of  the  oldest  portions 
of  the  state,  and  gives  us,  between  Otisville  and  Dela- 
ware, but  a  foretaste  of  the  entirely  new  tracts  of  wild, 
unknown  country  we  will  find  it  is  to  open  up  for  the  first 
time  farther  west.  In  this  section  of  13  miles  were  en- 
countered the  first  serious,  difiicult  opposition  of  the  soil, 
as  may  be  seen  by  stating  a  few  items  that  may  prove  in- 
teresting. Between  these  points,  317,000  pounds  of  pow- 
der were  used,  210,000  cubic  yards  of  rock  excavated, 
730,000  yards  of  earth  removed,  and  14,000  yards  of  stone 
wall  built.  Wliile  Otisville  is  875  feet  above  the  level  of 
the  sea,  Delaware  is  but  500,  and  the  descent  between 
them  is  one  of  45  feet  to  the  mile.  The  road  as  far  as 
Delaware  was  opened  in  Janviary,  1848  ;  leaving  which 
place  we  follow  the  fine  section  of  the  road  that  stretches 
from  the  Neversink  bridge  due  west  to  the  extent  of  three 


GlilDE-HOOK   OF  THE 


miles,  and  pass  through  a  spacious 
area  that  affords  plenty  of  level 
ground  for  the  wants  of  the  com- 
pany at  any  time  Going  west  from 
Delaware  to  Deposit,  a  distance  of 
88  miles,  the  road  is  nearly  level, 
the  highest  grade  being  15  feet  to 
the  mile.  The  canal  keeps  along 
on  our  right,  occasionally  separa- 
ted from  our  path,  but  again  clos- 
ing up,  as  if  to  enter  its  sluggish 
boats  in  a  race  with  our  iron  steed 
At  the  end  of  two  miles  we  enter  a 
rude  and  uninteresting  region,  dot- 
ted with  an  occasional  hamlet,  and 
though  the  mountains  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  Delaware  hug  the  stream 


those  on  the  right 
recede,  leaving  a 
vast  plain,  across 
which  the  canal 
suddenly  bends, 
and,  as  we  pass 
it  by  a  wooden 
bridge,  a  quiet 
Dutch  picture  is 
given  us  of  its 


boats,  its  slow-plod- 
ding steeds  in  their 
dreary  promenade, 
and  the  neat  houses 
dotting  the  river's 
banks.  Beyond  this, 
a  deep  gravel  cut 
brings  us  again  to 
the  Delaware,  which 
we  cross  by  what  is 


\ 

KEW    VOKK   AND  ERIE   EAIL-ROAD.  09 

called  the  "  Saiv-7ruU  Rift  Bridge'  (from  New  York  92 
miles,  from  Dunkirk  368  miles),  four  miles  from  Delaware. 
This  great  structure  is  800  feet  long ;  it  is  built  of  wood, 


supported  by  arches  of  160,  150,  and  140  feet  span,  and 
rests  on  piers  of  solid  masonry.    Its  cost  was  $75,000. 

The  view  up  and  down  the  Delaware  from  this  bridge 
is  interesting,  particularly  the  latter,  that  shows  the  bold 
precipice  called  the  "Glass-house  Rocks,"  on  the  south 


bank.  The  view  up  stream  shows  the  canal  and  rail-road 
now  on  opposite  sides  of  the  river,  with  an  island  in  the 
stream  that  here  pours  under  the  bridge  a  deep  and  rapid 
current.    In  crossing  the  Delaware,  we  not  only  leave  Or- 


70 


GLIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


ange  county,  but  enter  the  laud  of  Penn.  The  company 
wished  to  confine  their  road  to  the  New  York  side  of  the 
river,  but  as  they  could  not  control  the  natural  features 
of  the  country,  nor  alter  state  lines,  and  the  narrow  strip 
of  passable  ground  along  that  bank  being  already  occupied 
by  the  canal,  the  Legislature  of  Pennsylvania  was  applied 
to  for  right  of  way  through  that  state.  It  was  also  neces- 
sary to  obtain  permission  of  the  New  York  Legislature  to 
construct  a  portion  of  their  road  up  the  Valley  of  the  Del- 
aware River,  on  the  Pennsylvania  side,  and  after  much 
difficulty,  encountered  through  two  sessions,  the  privilege 
was  secured  ;  for  which  right,  and  benefit  to  that  state, 
Pennsylvania  charges  the  comimjiy  te7i  thousand  dollars 
a  year  !  A  fine  curve  in  the  bank  of  the  river  beyond  the 
bridge  shows  us  . 

a  broadside  view    \    _ 

of  that  structure 
with  the  rocky 
heights  farther  on, 
and  in  a  few 
moments  we  are 
brought  opposite 
the  first  of  those 
majestic  masses 
of  mountain  wall 


NEW    YORK    ASD    ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


71 


that  overshadow  our  way  for  miles  to  come.  This  huge 
wall  of  rock  and  foliage  towers  over  the  right  bank  of  the 
Delaware,  and  at  its  base  winds  the  thread-like  Delaware 
and  Hudson  Ca?ial,  the  figures  of  the  boatmen,  horses, 
&c.,  dwindled  to  insignificant  size  by  contrast  with  the 
bulky  heights  above.  A  short  distance  up  its  side  is  seen 
a  solitary  shanty,  with  men  dwarfed  to  ants,  picking  out 
the  scant  loose  soil  among  the  rocks  to  patch  the  canal, 
for  over  there  such  an  article  is  as  precious  as  gold  dust 
There  is  a  breadth  and  grandeur  in  this  massive  mount- 
ain screen  exceedingly  impressive,  and  the  efiect  is  height- 
ened by  the  simple  strip  of  rail-road  and  a  grove  of  trees 
that  form  the  foreground  on  our  side  of  the  river.  We 
are  now  entering  the  wild  and  lonely  scenery  of  the  Del- 
aware, and  though  a  farm-house  occasionally  relieves  the 
solitary  and  primeval  character  of  the  country,  they  are 
rapidly  becoming  less  in  number,  and  we  wonder  that  so 
short  a  distance  should  exist  between  these  uncultivated 
wilds  and  the  teeming  plains  of  Orange.  The  main  em 
ployment  and  support  of  the  population  along  the  Del 
aware  have  been,  since  its  settlement,  drawn  from  it> 
lumber,  that  is  carried  by  rafts  down  to  Philadelphia  and 
other  points  below  ;  and  so  the  plo"Vv  and  all  its  civilizing 
influences  has  never  been  felt  here,  though  the  poverty 
of  the  soil  has  been  a  great  obstacle.  Consequently,  ex- 
cept during  the  rafting  season  in  spring  and  autumn,  the 
Delaware  appears  a  desolate  stream  indeed,  with  nothing 
to  break  its  monotonous  dullness  save  the  occasional  shout 
of  the  boatmen,  the  snort  of  the  locomotive,  the  "  still 
small"  lapse  of  the  river  over  the  eel-trap,  or  the  crack 
of  a  rifle,  as  the  "far  roll  of  its  departing  voice"  is  lost  in 
the  echoing  hills  I 

Eight  miles  and  a  half  west  of  Delaware  we  come  to 
Stairway  Brook  (from  New  York  97  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 363  miles).    Does  not  the  name  of  this  station  sug- 
gest a  foaming  streamlet  tumbling  down  a  rocky  stair- 


GUI  UK-BOOK   OF  THE 


case  into  the  Delaware  ?  Stretch  not  your  head  vainly 
forth  with  any  such  expectation,  fellow-traveler  I  Nei- 
ther stairway  nor  streamlet  is  in  sight,  and  near  us  we 
see  nothing  but  a  wood-pile  and  water-tank  ;  but  turn 
your  eyes  toward  the  river,  and  look  at  that  beautiful 
view — the  river  in  the  center,  a  richly-wooded  hill  on  the 
right,  with  the  canal  curving  round  its  base,  a  pleasing 
vista  of  retreating  mountains,  and  this  bold  foreground, 


where  a  single  stately  tree,  and  a  humble  shanty  with  a 
garden-patch,  preserve  the  nice  balance  between  natuie 
and  civilization,  that  gives  the  prospect  such  peculiar  beau- 
ty after  the  fatiguing  solitariness  of  the  scenes  just  passed. 

The  snug  houses  clustering  round  the  locks  of  the  canal 
opposite  are  cheering  to  our  spirits,  and  we  feel  disposed 
to  answer  back  the  faint  hail  of  the  boatmen.  Perhaps 
we  may  be  excused  in  an  attempt  to  relieve  the  tedium 
of  the  unassociated  tract  of  country  lying  before  us  by 
some  reflections  upon  one  of  the  features  of  the  canal, 
which  has  been  our  constant  though  distant  fellow-trav- 
eler for  so  many  miles  ;  we  mean  the  hoy-drivers  of  the 
plodding  animals  that  drag  those  rival  vehicles,  a  near  in- 
spection of  whom  (the  boys)  affords  such  a  novel  study 
Before  rail  ways  had  quite  abolished  in  England  the  old 


NEW   YORK   A.ND   ERIE  RajL-KOAD. 


73 


modes  of  travel,  no  problem  was  more  puzzling  than 
"What  became  of  the  old  |:><9S^-5o?/s" — those  venerable 
tenants  of  juvenile  jackets  and  corduroys?  A  similar 
query  is  suggested  by  a  familiar  study  of  these  young  ca- 
nal-boat drivers  ;  and  the  pencil  of  Charles  Lamb,  so  hap- 
py in  sketching  those  "innocent  dark  specks  of  creation," 
the  chimney-sweeps,  can  alone  do  justice  to  these  slowest 
of  American  jockeys  I  Only  look  at  the  weather-beaten 
old-young  figure  bestriding  that  horse  day  after  day,  night 
after  night,  through  wet  and  cold.  Caught  when  so  young 
that  his  legs,  protrude  horizontally,  and  not  hcmg,  from  the 
saddle,  he  remains  there  a  fixture  for  his  generally  brief 
career — a  sort  of  youthful  Centaur — and  in  a  short  time 
the  mingled  air  of  martyrdom  and  meditation  stamped 
upon  his  visage  on  his  first  elevation  to  office  gives  way 
to  an  expression  of  blank  stolidity,  the  result  of  his  mo- 
notonous duties,  while  the  constant  exposure  to  the  ele- 
ments, and  the  corrupting  intercourse  of  his  older  asso- 
ciates, make  him,  while  still  a  child,  old  in  constitution, 
morals,  and  disposition,  taking  from  his  young  face  every 
sign  of  boyish  hilarity,  and  stamping  there  revolting  traces 
of  early  dissipation  of  the  vilest  sort.  Look  at  him  as  he 
lounges  on  that  plodding  horse,  under  the  blaze  of  a  dog- 
day  sun  I  How  listlessly  he  sits  there,  in  a  sort  of  sun- 
struck  doze — his  bloated  young  cheeks,  his  puffy  eye-lids, 
and  the  glaring  light  nearly  concealing  his  glazed  eyes — 
a  thing  of  hopeless  inanition,  save  when  he  starts  up  to 
vent  an  imprecation  upon  his  charger,  or  exchange  a  black- 
guard jest  with  some  passing  vagabond  mounted  like  him- 
self I  No  blithe  country  lad  is  he,  with  the  exhilarating 
influence  of  nature's  scenes  acting  upon  young,  excitable 
nerves  and  pulses  I  Premature  bad  brandy  and  tobacco 
have  burned  and  shriveled  up  such  sensibilities.  "V\Tiat 
to  him  is  the  fair,  fresh  face  of  the  visible  world  ?  Noth- 
ing but  the  blank,  dead  wall  of  a  tread-mill.  Perhaps  he 
does  now  and  then  glance  sidelong  at  the  shadow  of  him- 

<- 


74 


f.UlDE-bOOK   Of  THE 


self  and  steed,  and  descant  on  their  own  deformity.  There 
is  no  change  to  his  existence  save  that  brought  by  the  sea- 
sons, and  the  cold  winter  night-winds,  when  the  canal  is 
not  frozen,  that  howl  down  these  dreary  gorges,  pierce 
through  his  mass  of  dirty  woolens,  and  chill  his  weakened 
body  with  rain,  sleet,  and  snow  !  Like  Mazeppa,  inex- 
orably and  inextricably  bound  to  his  horse,  no  wonder  the 
feeble  current  in  his  motionless  limbs  succumbs  to  the 
blast,  either  crippling  him  by  its  nipping  breath  or  stilling 
it  altogether.  Hence  these  unfortunate  slow  jockeys  are 
often  found  in  the  canal,  where  they  have  either  slipped 
while  locked  in  half-frozen  sleep  or  whole-drunken  stu- 
pidity, or,  which  is  quite  as  likely,  by  deliberate  design  to 
end  their  sufferings  1  This  is  no  overdrawn  picture  of  ju- 
venile misfortune,  but  based  on  frequent  accounts  by  those 
who  know  these  boys  and  their  condition.  The  confine- 
ment of  the  factory-child  seems  ease  and  enjoyment  com- 
pared with  this  mock  liberty  and  exercise  of  the  canal- 
boat  boy !  But  what  has  this  to  do  with  our  raz7-road  ? 
True ;  and,  begging  pardon  for  such  an  ill-timed  piece  of 
sympathy,  we  will  hurry  over  the  three  miles  from  Stair- 
way Brook  to- 

Pond  Eddy  (from  New  York  99|-  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
360|  miles).  The  Delaware,  at  this  place  making  a  sud- 
den bend,  forms  one  of  those  wide,  deep  basins  called 


NEW   YORK  AN  13  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


75 


ponds  by  the  people  here,  constituting  a  remarkable  feat- 
ure in  the  river  ;  hence  the  name  of  this  station.  Pond 
Eddy  is  a  celebrated  rendezvous  for  the  lumber-men  w^hen 
rafting  down  the  river,  and  during  the  season  this  basin 
is  filled  with  a  fleet  of  their  broad  vessels.  Its  depth  is 
great  enough  to  float  a  man-of-war,  and  yet  a  few  hund- 
red yards  above  or  below  you  may  see  a  figure  wading 
through  the  river  to  the  eel-traps  !  One  can  therefore 
imagine  the  force  of  this  eddy  during  the  rafting  season. 
Pond  Eddy  is  one  of  the  humanized  points  on  the  Dela- 
ware, owing  to  the  presence  of  raftsmen,  for  whose  wants 
good  accommodations  are  here,  and  the  pretty  hamlet 
round  the  canal-locks  on  the  opposite  side,  always  a  charm- 
ing object  in  the  scenery  of  this  river. 

Beyond  Pond  Eddy  the  road  assumes  with  every  mile 
a  more  important  character,  while  the  landscape  becomes 
wilder  and  more  lonely.  We  run  along  a  straight  sec- 
tion, 30  feet  above  the  river,  marked  ofl^  by  natural  abut- 
ments of  gray  rock  and  pendent  hemlocks,  that  are  old 
enough  to  have  their  evergreen  foliage  changed  to  a  hoary 
and  rusty  hue  I  The  mountain  we  are  skirting  seems 
sliced  down  as  deep  as  115  feet  to  make  our  pathway. 
Two  miles  further  we  enter  a  grander  portion  of  the  road. 
The  mountains  rise  perpendicularly  from  the  river's  edge, 


76 


GUIDE-BOOK   OJt'  Tlli: 


and  along  its  breast  we  run  securely,  though  on  the  brink 
of  a  precipice  of  80  feet.  A  huge  walled  embankment 
and  culvert  in  the  curve  of  this  section  add  to  its  inter- 
est. But  not  till  we  get  four  miles  from  Pond  Eddy  does 
the  splendid  engineering  talent  displayed  in  the  construc- 
tion o'f  this  road  show  itself  in  its  consummate  daring,  sub- 
limity, and  success.  It  is  a  section  very  like  the  one  just 
passed,  but  on  a  grander  scale,  showing  a  straight  cut 
along  the  mountain  side  one  mile  long,  and  terminating  in 
a  beautiful  curve,  whence  the  best  view  of  it  is  to  be  had. 


There  it  stretches,  a  gigantic  gallery  overlooking  a-sheer 
precipice  of  100  feet  above  the  river,  and  showing  along 
its  narrow  edge  enormous  natural  abutments  of  seamed 
and  riven  rock,  as  though  they  were  placed  to  support  the 
fearful  pathway  traversed  by  the  heavy  train.  One  of 
these  natural  abutments  is  depicted  in  the  following  page. 
Perhaps  it  is  well  that  travelers  generally  see  but  little 
of  this  causeway  from  the  cars,  as  its  sublime  features 
and  the  cliffs  above  might  make  them  feel  uncomfortable  ; 


^E\V   YORK   AND   ERIF:  RAIL-ROAD 


77 


but  it  is  "vvell  worth  the  tourist's  while  to  walk  along-  its 
terrace,  in  order  to  judge  of  the  difficulties  overcome  in  run- 
ning a  road  along  such  a  frightful  precipice.  What  adds 
to  its  impressive  grandeur  is  the  contrast  presented  by  the 
opposite  shore,  that  rises  gently  from  the  river,  skirted  by  a 
grove  of  willows,  over  which  shines  a  calm  strip  of  the  ca- 
nal, bordered  by  smiling  fields  and  snug  dw'ellings.  This 
contrast  is  more  remarkable  in  the  morning,  when  a  vast 
shadow  covers  the  dark  pines  and  column-like  crags  that 
support  the  grand  corridor  just  traversed,  and  the  op 
posite  meadows,  groves,  basin,  boats,  men,  and  figures 
sparkle  in  the  dewy  light.  The  solitary  shanty  near 
us,  with  its  scant  garden-patch,  shows  the  little  ground 
aftbrded  for  a  human  dwelling  on  our  side  of  the  Del- 
aware. It  is  said  that  while  surveying  this  portion  of 
the  road,  it  was  frequently  necessary  to  let  down  the 
engineers  by  means  of  ropes  to  the  positions  they  wished 
to  attain  I  To  convey  some  idea  of  the  labor  expend- 
ed upon  this  great  Shohola  section,  we  will  state  that 
three  miles  of  it  cost  $300,000  I    A  sustaining  wall  in 


78 


t;u  I  DE-BOOK  OF  Tin: 


the  last  mile  is  90  feet  high,  and  cciitaiiis  1G,000  yards  of 
stone. 

AVe  now  abruptly  leave  the  Delaware  for  a  while,  and 
pass  through  a  rock-cutting 
in  the   mountain  dividing 
that  river  from  one  of  its 
tributaries,  Shohola  Creek, 


which  we  cross  by  a  \^-ood- 
en  bridge  70  feet  m  height. 
Coming  from  the  rocky  grand- 
eur of  the  section  just  passed, 
it  is  refreshing  to  meet  the 
strikingly  Swiss-like  charac- 
ter of  this  creek,  the  banks 
of  which  are  covered  with 
pointed  masses  of  hemlock 
and  pine.  AThile  skirting 
these  groves,  we  see  on  our 
right  an  extraordinary  rock- 
cutting,  a  perpendicular  wall  50  feet  high,  the  masses  of 
which  look  as  square  and  regular  as  chisel  of  mason  could 
make  them.  Half  a  dozen  tall  burned  and  branchless 
hemlocks  between  us  and  the  ravine  of  the  creek  makes 
a  strong  and  savage  contrast  with  the  prevailing  pictur- 


NEW   YORK   AND    ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


79' 


esqueness  of  its  scen- 
ery. But  the  gem  of 
the  views  along  this 
romantic  stream  is 
from  the  bridge,  look- 
ing over  its  shaded 
below  toward  the 
\illage  of  Barry ville, 
Vvliose  white  dwell- 
ings shine  through 
the  tall  evergreens 
springing  from  the 
edge  of  the  creek, 
that  is  seen  to  join 
the  Delaware  on  the 
right.  AYe  have  nev- 
er seen  more  beauti- 
ful nooks  than  may  be  found  on  this  creek,  of  whose  mu- 
sical Indian  name  (no  doubt  very  expressive  of  its  singu- 
lar character)  we  regret  not  having  heard  any  translation. 

Barryville  (from  jNTcav  York  107  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
353  miles).  This  station  lies  a  short  distance  beyond  the 
creek,  on  a  highly  elevated  point  above  the  Delaware,  that 
here  makes  a  sudden  bend  a  mile  from  the  station,  shoAV- 
ing  on  its  opposite  bank  the  thriving  village  of  Barryville. 
Shohola,  as  this  station  is  commonly  called,  has  but  little 
business  at  present,  though  with  time  it  must  prove  an 
important  one,  being  so  near  the  large  village  opposite. 
Barryville  is  another  of  the  numerous  offsprings  of  the 
Delaware  and  Hudson  Canal,  that  passes  through  it. 
Besides  the  coal  business  established  there  by  that  canal, 
the  immense  piles  of  lumber  and  numerous  saw-mills  scat- 
tered along  the  shore  below  us  show  how  much  the  great 
staple  of  the  Delaware  has  to  do  with  the  prosperity  of 
the  place.  A  neat  little  hotel  stands  opposite  this  station, 
and  the  tourist,  tempted  to  explore  its  beautiful  creek,  will 


so 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


find  here  those  luxuries  (so  rare  in  tliis  region),  a  clean 
bed  and  private  room.  From  Shohola  the  road  appears 
to  descend  to  the  river's  side  from  the  great  height  above 
the  river  on  which  the  station  is  placed.  It  is  still,  how- 
ever, a  slightly  ascending  grade,  as  you  may  perceive  by 
its  current,  the  river  here  (between  the  Shohola  and  Lack- 
awaxen  above)  making  a  gradual  descent.  In  this  vicin- 
ity was  fought  the  bloody  battle,  or,  rather,  ambuscade, 
when  Brandt  and  his  warriors  slaughtered  and  dispersed 
the  New  York  militia,  as  noticed  in  speaking  of  Goshen, 
where  a  monument  was  erected  to  the  memory  of  the  slain. 

Lacka WAXEN  (from  Jsew  York  111  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
349  miles)  is  our  next  station,  four  miles  beyond  Shohola, 
and  23  from  Delav/are.  AYe  have,  while  approaching  it, 
a  fine  view  of  the  village,  the  rail-road  bridges  over  the 
river  of  the  same  name,  and  the  great  aqueduct  here 
thrown  across  the  Delaware  for  the  passage  of  the  canal, 
which  has  so  long  been  our  opposite  companion.  This 
aqueduct  is  supported  by  an  iron  wire  suspension  bridge, 
and  conducts  the  canal  over  to  the  valley  of  the  Lackawax- 
en,  up  which  it  extends  to  Honesdale,  Pennsylvania,  and 
is  there  connected  with  the  mines  at  Carbondale  by  a  rail- 
road.   Lackawaxen  stands  at  the  confluence  of  the  river 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


81 


with  tlie  Delaware,  that  is  here  dammed  across  under  the 
aqueduct,  supplying  great  water-power  to  the  saw-mills 
in  this  thriving  place.  Its  iron  trade  is  also  of  importance, 
and  altogether  the  station  here  must  prove  eventually  an 
important  one.  The  rail-road  traverses  the  Lackawax- 
en  River  and  part  of  its  vale  by  two  substantial  bridges, 
w^hich,  with  the  aqueduct,  make  the  distant  view  of  the 
village  very  remarkable  and  interesting.  Our  prurient 
curiosity  to  trace  the  meaning  of  Indian  names  was  en- 
tirely at  fault  in  its  attempt  to  explain  the  word  Lacka- 
waxen,  or  Lackcavack,  as  it  is  often  called  We  were 
told  it  meant  the  "junction  of  streams,"  a  translation  we 
have  heard  given  to  a  dozen  Indian  names  of  different  or- 
thography and  sound.  Could  there  have  been  such  a  rad- 
ical difference  in  the  dialects  of  the  Indian  tribes  ? 

Being  the  outlet  of  the  valley  along  which  flows  such  a 
tide  of  trade  connected  with  the  mines  of  the  interior,  the 
Delaware,  and  the  Hudson,  there  is  every  advantage  in 
favor  of  the  great  growth  of  this  village  and  its  station. 
Beyond  Lackawaxen  we  cross  a  small  bridge,  and  continue 
following  the  Delaware,  with  its  rafts,  piles  of  timber,  and 
constant  lanes  in  the  mountain's  side  for  the  descent  of  the 
logs.  Further  on  we  leave  the  river,  and  five  and  a  hali 
miles  from  our  last  stopping-place  we  reach 

Mast  Hope  (from  Jsew  York  116  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
344  miles).  This  is  a  station  of  but  little  importance, 
lying  in  a  more  open  part  of  the  Delaware  Valley.  Its 


f;T-|nE-V,(>OK   OF  THE 


name  sounds  very  odd,  and  is  said  to  be  a  corruption  of  two 
Indian  words,  whose  signification  we  could  not  discover. 

Two  miles  further  we  recross  the  Delaware  into  New 
York  by  a  wooden  bridge  580  feet  long,  with  four  spans, 
the  two  central  of  which  are  160  feet  in  width.    "We  are 


now  m  Sullivan  county,  which  lies  to  the  w^est  of  Orange. 
This  part  is  called  Lu?nberla?id,  though,  indeed,  that  title 
might  be  applied  to  all  its  southern  or  river  boundary,  for 
there  is  but  little  of  the  soil  improved.  This  part  of  the 
county,  before  the  construction  of  the  road,  was  but  little 
kno^^ni.  The  scenery  along  the  river  is  sensibly  becoming 
tamer  than  it  appears  east  of  Shohola.  The  road,  for  four 
miles  beyond  the  bridge,  winds  so  much  that  one's  ideas  of 
the  points  of  the  compass  are  all  at  fault,  so  that,  though 
our  general  course  should  be  west,  w^e  enter  Narrows- 
burgh  from  the  southwest. 

Narrowsburgh  (from  New  York  122  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 338  miles),  though  not  the  most  picturesque,  is  cer- 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAU. 


63 


tainly  one  of  the  most  delightful  stations  along  the  road. 
There  is  an  air  of  industry,  prosperity,  and  comfort  about 
every  thing  refreshing  to  behold  after  what  we  have 
passed.  The  company's  offices  are  well  built,  the  refresh- 
ment-rooms filled  with  abundance,  and  near  them  is  a  large 
hotel,  (and  if  as  it  was,)  one  of  the  best  and  most  comfort- 
able houses  to  be  found  any  where.  The  proof  of  that  is 
the  number  of  famihes  and  single  persons  that  board  here 
during  the  summer.  Narrowsburgh  is  another  of  the  rap- 
idly-growing communities  which  the  rail-road  has  scat- 
tered along  its  path.  Yvhere,  a  few  years  since,  were  only 
a  farm-house  and  hotel,  now  stands  a  village,  with  stores 
and  dwellings  clustering  round  the  beneficent  presence  of 
a  station.  The  village,  as  it  may  be  called,  lies  on  the 
margin  of  the  Delaware,  that  here  is  locked  in  between 


two  points  of  rock,  whose  narrow  gorge  gives  the  place  its 
title  of  Narroivshm^h.,  though  the  lumbermen  call  it  by 
its  old  name,  Big  Eddy,  because,  during  a  freshet,  there 
rushes  through   these  "narrows"   the  "biggest  kind  of 


84  GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 

an  eddy.  Over  the  •'  narrows"  is  flung  a  -svooden  bridge, 
with  a  smgle  span  of  15-i  feet — a  monstrous  span,  but  not 


more  so  than  the  monstrous  tolls  for  traversing  it.  These 
are  very  high,  and  act  prejudicially  to  Xarrowsburgh,  by 
diverting  into  other  routes  the  produce  that  would  fiow 
into  this  station.  The  amount  of  business  done  here  is 
proved  by  the  appearance  of  the  freight-houses.  The  sur-  . 
rounding  country  is  the  region  of  tan7ieries,  owing  to  the 
abundance  of  hemlock ;  and,  in  addition  to  the  leather  in- 
terests, the  direct  communication  with  the  mines  of  Car- 
bondale  supply  other  sources  of  trade.  The  scenery  around 
Karrowsburgh  is  very  beautiful,  and  affords  line  drives  and 
strolling-grounds.  The  land,  fortunately,  is  in  the  hands 
of  a  gentleman  (Mr.  Corv\in)  who  has  had  the  good  taste 
to  preserve  the  tine  park-hke  trees  dotting  the  beautiful 
meadow  between  the  station  and  the  river,  and  do  ev- 
ery thing  to  make  Narrowsburgh  a  favorite  summer  re- 
sort. Below  the  narrows  spoken  of  the  Delaware  expands 
into  a  Tvide  basin,  which,  during  a  freshet,  exhibits  a  stir- 
ring scene.  It  is  said  the  fur}'  of  the  current  through  the 
"narrows"  is  such  that  no  boat  could  Hve  in  it ;  and  when 
large  trees  heave  and  toss  in  its  eddies,  a  ^^"ilder  scene  can 
not  be  imagined.  Mr.  Corwin  says  he  has  dropped  in  it 
a  line  120  feet  long,  A^dth  a  weight  of  2S  pounds  attached, 
without  touching  bottom.    In  the  -v^inter  of  1550,  when 


NEW    YORK    AND    ERIE   RAIL -ROAD. 


65 


the  river  was  frozen  over,  a  sudden  rise  of  its  waters  pro- 
duced a  novel  scene  in  that  gorge.  The  pressure  of  the 
swollen  tide  underneath  caused  the  sheet  of  ice  covering 
the  basin  below  to  heave  in  regular  waves,  till  at  last,  giving 
way,  the  crash  and  roar  of  the  floating  fragments,  as  they 
were  piled  on  each. other,  made  a  picture  of  true  subhmit}\ 

Another  recommendation  to  a  sojoimi  at  Narrowsburgh 
is  the  abundance  of  game.  In  short,  the  tourist,  artist, 
and  sportsman  will  find  this  station  well  worthy  a  visit, 
and  the  entire  region  about  it  possessing  miusual  attractions 
to  each  and  all  of  them. 

Beyond  jSTarrowsburgh  the  country  reassumes  a  dull, 
uncultivated  aspect,  and  one  would  suppose  that  the  right 
of  ivay  through  such  a  district  could  not  be  expensive, 
though,  indeed,  the  poverty  of  the  soil  and  general  worth- 
lessness  of  a  tract  are  no  proofs  of  the  ease  with  which  a 
road  is  run  through  such  land.  And  w^hat  a  chapter  of 
fun  and  fury  might  be  found  in  the  legal  history  of  a  road, 
gromng  out  of  this  same  delicate  question  of  right  of  ivay. 
What  sudden  rises  in  the  value  of  gravelly  hills  or  boggy 
flats  occur  as  soon  as  such  choice  territories  are  threatened 
^vith  destruction  by  the  appearance  of  the  rail-road  I  Pro- 
prietors, quite  willing  a  few^  days  before  to  give  away  ev- 
ery other  acre  of  their  darling  bogs  and  gravel-banks,  sud- 
denly become  afraid  of  selHng  them  too  cheap,  and  ask  the 
prices  of  San  Francisco  iovm  lots  I  They  ask  thousands 
and  get  hundreds  ;  and  though  their  sales  make  them  com- 
fortable for  life,  many  remain  sworn  enemies  to  the  very 
road  that  enriches  them  I  If  the  land  agents  of  the  com- 
pany would  only  pubhsh  their  diaries,  they  would  excel  in 
fun  just  as  the  Diary  of  a  Physician  does  in  tragic  interest. 
And  while  on  the  subject  of  the  right  of  w^ay,  hsten,  fel- 
low-traveler, to  this  odd  illustration  of  it  that  occurred  dur- 
ing the  first  survey  of  the  road,  near  Monroe.  While  the 
engineers  were  running  a  hue  in  that  quarter,  one  of  these 
landedi  gentr}'  refused  them  permission  to  effect  their  pur- 


86 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


pose  through  a  certain  field  of  liis.  They  did  not  notice 
his  warning  or  his  threats  ;  but  one  morning,  just  as  they 
had  assembled  with  their  tools  on  the  forbidden  ground,  a 
ferocious  bull  rushed  upon  them,  roaring  like  one  of  his 
Bashan  progenitors,  with  tail  erect  and  head  lowered  in 
a  very  threatening  manner.  The  farmer  had  placed  liim 
there  in  ambush  the  night  before,  and  now  stood  near, 
watching  the  issue  of  the  conflict.  A  very  short  survey^ 
indeed,  of  the  animal,  was  needed  by  the  engineers,  who 
forthwith  ''ran  a  line  '  to  the  fence  with  unexampled  di- 
rectness and  dispatch.  The  bull,  thus  left  master  of  the 
field,  amused  himself  with  a  stampede  among  the  deserted 
instruments.  A  parley  was  then  held,  and  the  professionals 
declared  that  if  the  bull  was  not  removed  they  Avould  shoot 
him ;  and  some  shooting-irons  being  soon  produced  for  that 
purpose,  the  farmer  gave  in,  and  the  bull  was  taken  out. 
It  seemed,  however,  that  the  animal  "fed  fat  the  ancient 
grudge"  he  bore  the  profession,  for  when  the  first  locomo- 
tive appeared  on  the  scene  of  his  defeat,  he  lay  in  ambus- 
cade for  the  unconscious  engine,  and,  rushing  toward  it, 
they  met  in  full  career,  and  his  bullship  was  converted 
into  fresh  beef  on  the  spot  I 

l^our  miles  beyond  Narrowsburgh  the  monotonous  and 
solitary  track  along  the  river  suddenly  emerges  into  ex- 
tensive plains  of  the  greatest  fertility.  Orchards  are  in- 
terspersed among  these,  and,  two  miles  of  these  cheering 
fields  being  passed,  we  stop  at 

CociiECTON  (from  New  York  131  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
329  miles).  The  station  here  is  of  the  simplest  descrip- 
tion ;  but  the  views  from  it,  looking  toward  the  village 
and  up  and  down  the  valley,  are  truly  beautiful  (see  next 
page).  The  valley  of  the  Cochecton  presents  the  richest 
streak  of  fat  mercifully  inserted  between  the  two  solitary 
and  barren  banks  of  this  lumbering  river.  It  is  about  two 
miles  long,  averaging  one  mile  in  breadth.  One  mile  from 
the  station  we  enter  the  valley,  and,  while  the  Delaware 


,NE\V   YORK    AND   ERIE  RAIL-FOAD. 


87 


keeps  close  to  the  mountains  to  the  west,  the  rail-road  fol- 
lows the  ciu'vinj^  base  of  the  hills  on  the  east,  thus  mak- 


ing the  valley  elliptical  in  form,  for  at  the  distance  of  two 
miles  road  and  river  again  unite  The  valley  is  evident- 
ly an  alluvial  deposite,  as  hardly  a  stone  can  be  found 
upon  its  level  surface,  while  fifteen  feet  below  are  found 
cobble-stones  precisely  like  those  forming  the  bed  of  the 
river.  At  the  southern  end  layers  of  leaves  have  been 
found  several  feet  under  ground,  well  preserved,  and  ly- 
ing in  a  strata  of  sand  and  earth.  This  character  of  the 
soil  throws  an  air  of  probability  over  the  correctness  of 
the  signification  given  to  the  name  of  the  valley — Cochec- 
ton — which  is  said  by  the  inhabitants  to  mean  "  increase," 
and  by  the  Indians  used  to  describe  the  formation  of  its 
soil.    In  the  spring  of  the  year,  the  waters  of  the  Dela- 


P8 


GUIDE- HOOK    OF  THE 


ware  above  Narrowsburgh  are,  during  freshets,  sometimes 
so  dammed  up  by  the  narrow  gorge  they  pass  through  at 
that  place,  that  this  valley  is  quite  inundated.  The  sed- 
iment thus  deposited  enriches  the  land  to  its  present  fer- 
tility, and  crops  of  rye,  oats,  buckwheat,  and  corn  are  very 
productive.  Along  its  rich  acres  are  some  twenty  dwell- 
ings, two  churches,  and  two  stores.  The  Newburgh  turn- 
pike crosses  the  A^alley  mid-length,  and  passes  over  the 
Delaware  by  a  wooden  bridge.  On  the  other  side  of  the 
river  at  that  point  lies  the  town  of  Damascus,  a  thriving 
Pennsylvania  community,  finely  situated  in  a  beautiful 
glen,  that  furnishes  water-power  for  the  mills  of  the  vil- 
lage. A  large  academy  has  now  been  erected  there.  The 
country  around  Damascus  abounds  with  scriptural  names, 
and  furnishes  in  this  respect  an  odd  contrast  to  this  sec- 
tion of  the  New  York  branch  of  the  Delaware,  where  the 
musical  and  expressive  names  used  by  the  Indians  arc 
carefully  preserved.  It  is  amusing  to  hear  the  honest 
denizens  of  this  region  speak  of  the  change  caused  by  im- 
proved means  of  travel.  Many  of  the  old  settlers  here 
still  remember  when  Newburgh  was  the  nearest  market, 
and  that  over  rough  roads,  involving  a  journey  of  days  ; 
now  six  hours  only  are  sufficient  to  bring  them  to  the 
greatest  of  all  markets,  New  York  city,  a  distance  of  122 
miles.  Beyond  Cochecton  the  road  rejoins  the  river,  and 
for  some  dozen  miles  follows  the  windings  of  its  stream 
through  scenery  which,  neither  wild  nor  stupid,  be- 
comes positively  tiresome  from  its  sameness  and  tame- 
ness.  There  are  few  traces  of  man  in  these  tracts,  and 
when  the  river  is  low  a  torpor  seems  to  rest  over  the  suc- 
cession of  sleek,  sloping  points  of  its  shores,  that  shows 
nothing  but  a  solitary  raft  half  aground,  or  a  faint  attempt 
at  a  smile  from  the  ripple  over  the  eel-dam.  Not  even 
the  fact  that  this  was  the  scene  of  the  stirring  incidents 
in  Cooper's  "Last  of  the  Mohicans"  lights  up  the  scenery 
with  interest,  and  we  rejoice  when,  at  the  end  of  four 


NEW   YORK   AKD   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


89 


miles  from  Cochecton,  we  see  the  round  slopes  of  the 
mountains  breaking  up  into  rugged  profiles,  and  a  rock- 
cutting  or  two  threatening  to  topple  down  upon  us.  Six 
miles  beyond  Cochecton  we  cross  the  Calicoon  Creek  by 
a  wooden  bridge,  and  reach  the  station  of  the  same  name 


Calicoon  (from  New  York  13 G  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
324  miles)  stands  in  the  heart  of  a  wild,  and,  till  lately, 
unknown  country.  Not  many  years  since  wild  animals 
roamed  the  forests  along  its  creek,  and  a  race  of  old  hunt- 
ers dwells  here,  that  still  recount  their  adventures  with 
them  and  the  Indians.  Tanjieadgs  now  abound  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  the  leather  and  other  freight  in  the 
store-houses  prove  that,  lonely  as  the  station  appears,  its 
business  is  not  slight.  The  Calicoon  Creek  is  full  of  wild  {K^ 
scenery,  and  is  stocked  with  game  and  trout.  Its  name 
— Calicoon — has  caused  a  war  of  opinion  among  the  in- 
habitants on  its  banks.  Some  say  it  is  the  Indian  word 
for  turkey,  a  bird  that  once  abounded  here,  and  gave 
the  stream  its  name.  Others  insist  that  it  is  of  Dutch 
origin,  and  also  means  turkey.  Our  informant  inclines 
to  the  first  theory,  and  bases  his  belief  on  the  authority 
of  one  Tom  Q^uick,  of  whom  he  tells  the  following  httle 
story,  illustrative  of  the  habits  of  the  Indian  fighters  of 
this  region.  Bill  Quick,  the  father  of  Tom,  was  one 
of  the  most  noted  of  these  hunters  and  fighters.  The 


GUJDK-BOOK    OF  THE 


Indians  murdered  Bill's  father,  and  the  son  swore  revenge 
upon  them  to  the  extent  of  one  hundred  lives,  that  be- 
ing his  sire's  estimated  value  in  red-skins.  Bill  hast- 
ened to  put  his  vow  in  execution,  and  no  amateur  dog- 
slayer  in  the  month  of  August  ever  went  to  work  with 
more  zeal  than  did  Bill  with  his  knife  and  rifle.  Those 
trusty  weapons  every  day  gave  him  his  daily  head.  He 
did  not  carry  off  their  scalps  ;  those  would  have  been  but 
common-place  certificates  of  his  performances.  He  brought 
away  their  entire  heads,  and,  having  dissected  and  labeled 
them,  carefully  put  them  away  on  shelves  in  his  hut.  The 
collection  of  heads  thus  "  v»-isely  kept  for  show"  rapidly 
increased  with  his  skill  and  practice.  His  vigilance  was  as 
extraordinary  in  eluding  his  foes  as  in  decapitating  them, 
[n  vain  they  tried  to  entrap  the  pale  face  whom  they 
knew  was  thus  rapidly  thinning  out  their  tribe.  At  last 
the  mortality  became  so  great,  and  his  safety  seemed  so 
secure,  that  they,  believing  him  to  use  supernatural  agen- 


XEW   YORK    AND    ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


91 


cy,  avoided  him  and  his  haunts  altogether.  This  did  not 
please  the  collector  of  Indian  heads,  for,  his  returns  be- 
ginning to  come  in  more  slow,  he  feared  that  too  many 
years  would  be  necessary  to  accomplish  his  vow.  His 
skulls  now  increased  slowly,  though  steadily,  and  an  acute 
chronologist  might  have  guessed  the  increasing  lapses  of 
time  between  the  red  "flesh-tints"  of  his  last  deposite  and 
the  mellow  hues  and  ivory  gloss  of  its  predecessor.  Time, 
too,  was  doing  his  work  upon  Bill.  The  eye  of  the  bold 
hunter  of  men  was  growing  less  keen  in  detecting  the  red- 
skins, his  step  not  so  active  in  dodging  them,  and  his  hand 
shook  while  "covering"  them  with  his  rifle.  Age,  how- 
ever, could  not  quench  his  determination  to  fulfill  his  vow. 
However  languidly  he  awoke  in  the  morning,  one  glance 
at  the  shelves  of  his  grinning  phrenological  cabinet  would 
make  him  bounce  out  of  bed,  seize  his  rifle,  and  take  to  the 
woods.  In  this  pious  work  the  hunter  grew  old.  His  son 
Tom,  long  since  a  man  grown,  had  often  wished  "to  fol- 
low to  the  field  his  warlike  lord,"  "but  his  sire  denied." 
Bill  would  allow  no  partnership,  and  resolved  to  finish  the 
bloody  game  as  he  commenced  it,  single-handed.  At  last 
the  7iinety-ninth  Indian  skull  was  deposited  with  the  oth- 
ers, and  Bill,  pleased  at  the  thought  of  soon  wiping  out 
the  ''to  he  continued''  he  had  chalked  upon  the  last  of 
his  collection,  prepared  for  his  last  sortie,  quite  willing, 
if  it  proved  successful,  for  his  own  bones  to  be  "laid  on 
the  shelf  I"  It  might  have  been  the  agitation  caused  by 
this  thought  of  a  speedy  fulfillment  of  his  vow  that  made 
old  Bill  suddenly  ill,  and  then  he  knew  his  time  had  come. 
Calling  his  son  Tom  to  his  bedside,  he  told  him  he  was 
dying,  and  that  he  had  a  legacy  to  leave  him.  "  That 
row  of  Injun  skulls,  Tom  I  There's  ninety-nine  on  'em, 
and  I  swore  to  make  'em  a  hundred,  but  the  Lord  won't 
let  me,  Tom,  but  wants  you  to  finish  the  job  I  I  charge 
you  to  do  it,  Tom,  or  your  father's  ghost,  and  your  mur- 
dered grandfather's  too,  will  come  and  haunt  you  I"  AYith 


92 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


this  exhortation,  the  old  hunter,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  his 
trophies,  gave  up  the  ghost. 

Now  whether  old  Bill  had  drove  off  the  Indians,  or 
made  them  too  cautious,  or  Tom  was  unskillful,  does  not 
appear,  but  the  son  did  not  prove  equal  to  the  task  sol- 
emnly imposed  upon  him.  In  vain  did  Tom  scour  the 
woods,  and  try  his  best  to  catch  the  "last  of  the  Mohi- 
cans." Years  rolled  past,  and  the  niche  on  the  shelves 
still  remained  vacant.  The  effect  of  his  failures  were  dis- 
astrous upon  Tom.  He  lost  all  confidence  in  his  abilities, 
and  sank  into  fatalism.  "  It  jest  his  luck  I"  AYith  a 
son's  pride,  he  would  survey  his  hereditary  skulls,  and  sigh 
for  the  glory  of  adding  to  them  the  last  skull,  at  that  time 
so  provokingly  safe  upon  its  proprietor's  shoulders  I  From 
these  interviews  between  the  "quick  and  the  dead"  he 
-would  retire,  downcast  and  despairing,  and  finally  sought 
relief  for  his  troubled  conscience  in  the  "last  mfirmity  of 
noble  minds" — the  bottle  I  "  How  could  he  get  the  hund- 
redth head,  when  there  were  no  Injuns  to  grow  'em?" 
And  then  Tom  drank  a  bumper  to  the  rest  of  the  soul  of 
his  grandsire,  whom  he  thought  ought  to  be  content  with 
the  not  very  "vulgar  fraction"  of  ninety-nhie  Indian  lives. 
Amid  these  potations,  however,  would  appear  the  figure 
of  his  father  wrapped  in  bear-skin — "  his  habit  as  he  lived" 
— who,  pointing  to  the  incomplete  row  of  heads,  would 
shake  his  fist  at  Tom  ;  and  then  the  skulls  would  grin, 
and  skeleton  thumbs  would  appear  at  their  snubby  skele- 
ton noses,  and  skeleton  fingers  would  wag  their  rattling 
joijits  at  him ;  and  then  his  father's  ghost  would  chant 
forth  old  hundred,  and  Tom  would  rush  out,  staggering, 
with  his  rifle,  to  return  empty-handed,  as  usual.  In  this 
way  Tom  has  lived  to  be  an  old  man,  his  energies  wasted 
and  his  health  impaired  by  the  heavy  thought  of  the  non- 
execution  of  his  father's  dying  request.  Like  Hamlet,  he 
is  the  victim  of  a  false  position — unequal,  though  inclined 
to  accomplish  the  mission  imposed  upon  him.    With  the 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


93 


"sweet  prince,"  he  might  rail  against  the  "cursed  spite" 

of  being  born  to  reduce  the  dislocated  joints  of  his  sire's 

soul,  and  paraphrase  his  invective  thus  : 

"Injuns  are  out  of  date  !    Oh,  cursed  blunder, 
That  I  was  born  to  make  these  skulls  a  hujidcr!" 

Haxkin's  (from  New  York  143  miles,  from  Dunkirk  317 
miles),  seven  miles  beyond  Calicoon,  where  we  next  stop, 


is  another  secluded  station,  standing  in  a  level  plain  mid- 
way across  a  bend  in  the  Delaware.  The  business  done 
here,  though,  will  undoubtedly  increase.  Half  a  mile  this 
side  of  Hankin's  the  road  runs  along  the  base  of  a  mountain, 
whose  steep  sides  are  swept  entirely  bare  of  trees,  present- 
ing nothing  but  a  mass  of  stumps  a^d  rocks,  where  the  rat- 
tle-snake is  found  in  myriads.  This  removal  of  the  forest 
was  the  few  minutes'  work  of  a  hurricane  twenty  years 
ago  ;  and  it  is  a  pity  that  the  same  shaving  process  has 
not  been  extended  to  more  of  these  bold  peaks,  for  it  is  re- 
freshing to  turn  from  the  eternal  green  mounds  skirting 
our  rivers  to  such  a  bluff,  bald  veteran  as  this  fellow,  that 
flings  his  rocky  outlines  athwart  the  sky  as  though  proud 
of  his  distinction  above  the  common  herd. 

We  rejoin  the  Delaware  at  another  of  its  numerous  raft- 
ing stations.    These  signs  of  the  lumber  business  are  an 


9-1  GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 

indispensable  feature  in  the  Delaware  landscape.  Even 
when  it  is  not  the  season  for  rafting,  you  will  see  these 
light,  broad  craft  moored  along  the  banks,  or,  like  huge 
crocodiles,  sprawled  upon  the  beach.    Those  of  dressed 


timber  are  neatly  put  together,  and  are  of  various  sizes, 
some  long  enough  to  stretch  across  the  river  at  some  pla- 
ces. The  logs  of  hemlock  that  form  the  other  rafts  are 
slid  down  from  the  steep  sides  of  the  hills,  that  show  nar- 
row lanes,  along  which,  and  at  the  bottom  on  the  water- 
side, you  may  see  the  barkless  timber  glistening  in  the 
sun — another  peculiar,  feature  in  the  landscape  of  this 
river.  When  the  formation  of  the  ground  does  not  per- 
mit this  expeditious  mode  of  sending  down  the  logs,  the 
patient  ox  team  is  seen  on  the  shore,  dragging  them  to 
where  the  raftsmen  can  put  them  together.  It  is  a  pretty 
scene  when  such  a  group  is  seen  hard  at  work,  the  sturdy 
lumbermen  half  immersed  in  the  stream,  or  mounted  on 
the  timber  in  various  attitudes  of  collecting  or  steering 
them.  No  picture  of  this  river  can  be  a  portrait  without 
these  characteristics. 

Passing  along  the  winding  river,  the  next  object  of  in- 


NEW    VUllIv   AAD   EUIE  IIAIL-ROAD. 


95 


terest  is  a  slight  thread  of  a  cascade,  that  tumbles  over  a 
precipitous  mountain  500  feet  in  height,  coming  down  to 
the  very  edge  of  the  road.  It  is  seven  miles  beyond  Han- 
kin's  ;  but  you  need  not  look  out  for  it  unless  the  clouds 
have  supplied  it  with  water,  for  in  dry  weather  there  is 
nothing  of  the  kind  visible  at  all.  During  a  wet  day  in 
winter  it  spouts  in  admirable  profusion,  for  then  the  dense 
foliage  screen  of  summer  no  longer  hides  its  successive 
leaps  from  cliff  to  cliff.  We  have  nov^  passed  from  Sul- 
livan county  into  DelaAvare,  one  far  superior  in  every  re- 
spect. The  portion  of  the  road  traversed  since  leaving 
Lackawaxen  is  of  an  almost  level  grade,  and  presenting 
but  few  marks  of  heavy  work  in  its  construction.  Keep- 
ing generally  near  the  edge  of  the  river  bed,  but  little  ele- 
vated above  it,  it  occasionally  presents  a  rock-cutting  on 
one  side  and  a  sustaining  wall  on  the  other  ;  but  these, 
after  having  seen  the  great  three-mile  cut  near  Shohola, 
excite  no  interest. 

Equixu^ck  (from  New  York  153|-  miles,  from  Dunkirk  30G^ 
miles)  w-e  next  reach,  10  miles  beyond  Hankins's,  another 
young  but  growing  station,  the  product  of  the  road,  now 
called  LoRDviLLE.    It  contains  the  company's  offices  and 


a  neat  hotel,  that  will  do  much  to  hasten  the  growth  of 
a  place  promising  to  become  an  important  depot,  for  there 


06 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


is  a  vast  region,  both  on  the  Pennsylvania  and  New  York 
sides  of  the  river,  that  must  become  tributary  to  it.  It 
takes  its  name  from  the  village  of  Equinunk,  in  Pennsyl- 
vania, seen  on  the  river  side,  glimmering  at  the  foot  of 
that  conical  mountam,  one  mile  to  the  southward.  The 
traveler  will  be  struck  Vv'ith  the  beauty  of  that  village,  as 
we  approach  it  by  the  curved  embankment  on  our  side  of 


the  river.  Equinunk  village  is  placed  in  the  region  of 
tanneries,  and  possesses  several  that  support  its  popula- 
tion. Until  the  erection  of  the  hotel  at  the  station,  visit- 
ors had  to  seek  accommodation  in  the  village.  A  bridge 
over  the  Delaware  at  this  point,  it  is  thought,  would  act 
beneficially  upon  the  business  of  the  station.  If  the  trav- 
eler first  sees  Equinunk  village  at  sunset,  he  will  find  it 
one  of  the  prettiest  views  on  the  Delaware.  The  neat 
dwellings  and  mills  are  brilliantly  relieved  against  the 
valley,  shaded  by  the  noble  mountain  swelling  above  the 
village  on  the  right,  while  a  bold  precipice  of  gray  rocks 
reflect  a  broad  blaze  of  light  on  the  left.  These  spark- 
ling objects,  together  with  the  ferryman  slowly  pulling 
.over  the  stream,  are  vividly  repeated  in  the  Delaware, 
here  of  great  depth  and  transparency. 

Stockport  (from  New  York  159j  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
300^  miles)  is  our  next  stopping-place,  four  miles  further, 


NEW    \OKK    AAJJ   ERIE  PwAlL-ROAD. 


97 


and  also  takes  its  name  from  a  busy  little  community  on 
the  (Quaker  side  of  the  river.  The  business  of  this  station 
is  on  the  same  scale  and  of  the  same  character  with  that 
of  Equinunk.    The  village  opposite  was  named  after  a 


town  in  England,  and  has  a  large  grist  and  saw-mill,  the 

property  of  Mr.   ,  whose  grandfather  settled  this 

place.  The  immense  piles  of  sawn  timber  and  logs  col- 
lected here  attest  its  importance  as  a  lumber  depot ;  and, 
like  Equinunk,  it  is  placed  in  a  very  lovely  bend  of  the 
river.  Stockport  is  the  last  place  of  importance  we  shall 
see  on  the  Delaware  proper,  for  we  now  approach  the 
point  when  the  stream  we  have  so  long  followed  loses  its 
one  and  indivisible  name,  and  divides  into  two  branches. 
It  is  evidently  shrinking  in  size,  though  occasionally  ex- 
panding to  great  but  shallow  width  ;  the  islands  of  soft 
soil,  covered  with  bushes,  which  we  first  met  near  Equi- 
nunk, are  now  imposing  tracts  of  pasture,  with  large  pic- 
turesque trees  with  exposed  roots,  entangled  with  mossy 
virreck,  making  it  look  more  like  the  lovely  Susquehanna 
than  the  monotonous  and  shore- washed  Delaware.  The 
traveler  should  keep  on  the  left  side  of  the  cars  if  he  wish- 
es to  enjoy  the  beautiful  view  where  the  two  branches 
unite  to  form  this  river.  The  exact  point  of  confluence 
is  not  visible,  but  the  view  near  it  is  very  interesting 
Three  miles  beyond  Stockport  this  meeting  of  the  waters 
takes  place.    Before  you.  on  the  left,  comes  their  united 


08 


(,UIDL-r.<M)K    OF  THE 


current,  flowing  through  a  wide  flat  flanked  by  gravell} 
points,  clumped  with  noble  trees.  A  range  of  mountains 
is  seen  on  either  side,  but  the  peculiar  feature  in  the  view 
is  the  conical  peak  of  the  mountain  filling  up  its  center, 


with  its  base  mapped  ofl"  into  meadows,  and  its  upper  half 
an  unbroken  forest.  This  picture  should  be  first  seen  at 
sunset,  when  the  purple  mass  of  the  mountains  is  reflected 
in  the  river,  save  where  its  shallow  bed  breaks  it  into  a 
bright  ripple,  across  which  you  may  often  see  the  dark- 
ened figures  of  damsels  leading.  That  is  a  custom  much 
honored  in  this  region  when  the  Delaware  is  low  ;  and  it 
is  a  piquant  sight  to  witness  their  dainty  style  of  fording, 
indulging  in  many  a  "graceful  bend"  as  their  tender  soles 
come  in  contact  with  envious  gravel ;  or,  suddenly  plump- 
ing into  unexpected  depths,  they  regulate  with  modest  in- 
genuity the  height  of  their  garments  above  the  enamored 
tide '  „      From  this  point 

we  leave  the 
river  suddenly, 
passing  through 
a  fine  plain  of 
great  fertility ; 
we  then  cross 
the  east  branch 
of  the  Delaware  by  a  long  wooden  bridge,  and  find  our- 


NEW   YORK   AiND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD 


99 


selves  in  that  most  beautiful  of  all  villages  along  the 
road, 

Chehocton  (from  New  York  164  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
296  miles).    Thanks  to  the  resolute  taste  of  those  who 


retain  the  expressive  and  musical  Indian  name  of  this 
romantic  spot  1=^  The  name  of  Hancock  is  given  to  the 
township,  and  some  persons  wi-ti  apply  it  to  Chehocton  ; 
which,  however,  is  undergoing  corruptions  enough,  such 
as  Sheliocking,  and,  shocking  to  say,  Slwcking  itself. 
Chehocton  means  the  "  union  of  streams,"  and  is  well  ap- 
plied to  the  meeting  of  the  east  and  west  branches  of  the 
Delaware,  whose  Indian  names  are  Popacton  and  Coqua- 
go.  These  streams  both  rise  in  the  northeast,  and  run 
southwest,  almost  parallel,  for  nearly  70  miles.  At  that 
point  the  largest  or  west  branch  (Coquago)  is  suddenly 
turned  from  its  course  by  the  ridge  separating  this  valley 
from  that  of  the  Susquehanna,  and  runs  southeast  about 
13  miles  to  Chehocton.  The  Popacton,  or  east  branch, 
leads  a  much  shorter  but  more  consistent  career,  keep- 
ing due  on  in  the  direction  (southwest)  to  meet  its  ally. 
These  two  streams,  rushing  toward  each  other,  are  about 
to  unite  at  Chehocton,  when,  in  the  felicitous  words  of 
Mr.  "Willis,  "lol  a  mountain  puts  down  its  immovable 
foot,  and  forbids  the  union  I"    Chehocton  stands  upon  the 

*  These  thanks  are  now,  alas !  undesei-ved,  the  village  being  decidedly 
dabbed  Hancock  since  this  book  was  written. 


100 


CJUlDK-ljOOh   OF  THJ-: 


narrow  neck  of  land,  only  half  a  mile  wide,  separating 
the  streams,  that  again  turn  southward,  and  finally  meet 
two  miles  below,  at  the  southern  point  of  the  conical 
mountain  we  saw  there,  and  whose  northern  spur  is  thrust 
forward  to  "forbid  the  union."  Chehocton  extends  from 
this  point  eastwardly  to  the  bridge  over  the  Popacton  ; 
and  a  view  of  it  from  any  of  the  adjacent  heights  will 
convince  any  one  that  a  more  beautifully  situated  village 
is  to  be  found  in  no  country.  The  view  we  give  is  from 
the  west,  showing  how  snugly  the  village  is  lapped  among 


which  is  seen  the  approach  by  rail- way  from  the  east  by 
the  bridge  over  the  Popacton.  The  view  from  the  north, 
looking  down  the  Delaware,  is  the  most  extensive,  how- 
ever, and  is  unequaled  along  the  river. 

Chehocton  is  the  most  important  station  reached  since 
leaving  Delaware,  and  its  growth  is  amazing.  Before 
the  road  was  extended  here  it  was  a  dull  post-town,  and, 
though  on  the  main  road  from  Delhi  to  the  Pennsylvania 
mines,  presented  nothing  of  the  activity  and  increase  now 
visible  in  every  part  of  its  romantic  locality.  Two  large 
hotels  and  several  extensive  stores  now  ornament  its  street, 
which,  with  the  spacious  buildings  of  the  station,  give  it 
an  air  of  importance  and  dignity.  Private  dwellings,  in- 
closed with  gardens,  embellish  this  thoroughfare,  while 


NEW   YORK   AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


101 


the  stores  look  neat,  but  rather  grand,  from  behind  their 
Corinthian  piazzas,  particularly  when  the  eye  turns  from 
these  classic  temples  to  the  humble  house  of  God  conspic- 
uously placed  among  them,  and  which  should  at  least  be 
equal  to  the  private  houses  in  any  village.  Some  shrub- 
bery, also,  would  make  it  really  the  ornament  to  the  vil- 
lage, which  a  distant  view  of  its  modest  little  spire  sug- 
gests it  must  be.  Chehocton  is  destined  to  be  an  im- 
portant place.  With  a  rich  back  country,  its  business  has 
been  much  increased  by  new  facilities  for  bringing  here 
the  tributary  produce  and  trade  that  once  diverged  to 
more  accessible  points,  like  Deposit.  This  has  been  ef- 
fected by  a  new  plank  road,  extending  in  the  interior  to 
Walt07i,  in  Delaware  county.  Besides  these  advantages, 
its  natural  attractions,  pure  air,  and  romantic  scenery 
must  soon  cause  the  gentle  heights  above  the  village  to 
be  covered  with  country  seats.  In  the  mean  time,  let  the 
tourist,  artist,  and  sportsman  visit  it,  and  they  will  find 
its  attractions  doubly  pleasant  while  enjoying  the  excel- 
lent accommodations  of  the  hotel  kept  by  Mr.  Faulkner. 
There  is  a  saline  spring  on  the  Popacton,  which  a  medical 
gentleman  assures  us  has  valuable  medicinal  qualities. 
The  population  of  Chehocton  is  about  800.  It  is  remark- 
able, on  looking  over  a  gazetteer  of  but  five  years  back,  to 
see  how  briefly  are  noticed,  or,  rather,  not  noticed  at  all, 
many  of  the  now  thriving  places  along  this  rail-road. 
Chehocton  is  one  of  these  villages  that  have  outgrown 
such  recent  records,  and  had  important  confessions  to 
make  to  the  census-takers  of  1850.  We  leave  this  beau- 
tiful village  by  a  deep  cut  through  the  sloping  ridge  of 
the  mountain  that  "forbids  the  union"  of  the  Delaware's 
branches,  and  in  a  few  minutes  w^e  come  in  view  of  the 
Coquago,  or  west  fork,  which,  for  three  miles,  we  follow 
close  along  its  bank,  and  find  it,  for  that  distance,  beauti- 
ful enough,  but  certainly  not  deserving  the  flattering  title 
of  "  the  Rhine  of  America,"  bestowed  by  Mr.  Willis.  We 


102 


ta;iDE-]kX>K   OF  THE 


think  it  far  inferior,  in  every  respect,  to  the 
east  branch,  and  beyond  the  distance  spe- 
cified   it   becomes   positively  stupid. 
Some  miles  further  the  road  passes, 
by   a   very  long,  straight 
section,    through   a  fertile 
plain  ;    and  then,  crossing 


NEW   YORK    AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


1U3 


the  Coquago  by  a  covered  wooden  bridge,  we  roll  along  a 
curved  embankment,  that  brings  us  to 

Deposit  (from  New  York  177  miles,  from  Dunkirk  283 


miles).  This  is  an 
important  station  :  __^aaBig 
it  is  131  miles  from  ■ 
Chehocton  —  162^ 
from  Piermont :  it  is 
the  terminus  of  the 
long,  gentle  grade  ^^Bb 
extending  over  the  isfe'^^K 
Delaivare  Division 
from  Delaware  sta-  ^^^^^^ei^^' 
tion,  and  the  starting-point  of  a  heavy  grade  that  leads  to 
the  passage  of  the  high  mountain  ridge  between  us  and 
the  Susquehanna.  The  station  is  at  the  west  end  of  the 
village,  that  extends  eastward,  abreast  of  the  embanked 
approach,  as  far  as  the  Coquago,  which  we  leave  at  the 
bridge  just  crossed,  bidding  a  final  adieu  to  this  last  scion 
of  our  old  companion,  the  Delaware.  The  eastern  portion 
of  Deposit  is  the  oldest,  and,  till  lately,  the  busiest ;  but 
now,  in  spite  of  its  numerous  old  hotels,  churches,  mills, 
bridges,  and  dwellings,  the  bustling  precincts  of  the  sta- 


104 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THL 


tion,  its  large,  new,  and  improved  hotel,  and  the  rows  of 
dashing,  spruce  stores,  with  Corinthian  fronts,  have  alto- 
gether made  the  west  end  of  Deposit,  as  of  all  other  com- 
munities, the  place  of  business.  A  plank  road  intersects 
the  road  at  this  place  from  Bainhridge,  Chenango  county. 
A  glance  at  the  freight-houses  and  offices  of  the  company 
shows  the  amount  of  business  done,  and  the  numerous 
tracks  and  switches  laid  down  in  the  broad  area  of  the 
station  indicate  what  is  expected  to  be  its  increase.  Un- 
like Chehocton,  there  is  no  beauty  in  its  situation  to  ar- 
rest the  traveler  beyond  one  of  the  most  abundant  refresh- 
ment-tables a  hungry  tourist  ever  looked  at.  The  im- 
portant character  of  the  road  over  the  mountain's  bar- 
riers ahead  of  us  makes  this  station  particularly  extensive 
in  its  force  of  trains  and  engines-  An  excellent  new  hotel 
is  conveniently  near  the  offices.  Tanning  is  carried  on 
here  to  an  immense  extent,  a  constant  exchange  being 
kept  up  with  New  York  by  returning  the  dressed  hide  for 
the  raw  material.  The  population  of  Deposit  is  about 
1200. 

In  leaving  Deposit,  we  pass  out  of  Delaware  county 
and  enter  that  of  Broome.  The  one  we  leave  has  about 
one  fourth  of  its  surface  under  cultivation,  though  the  soil 
IS  generally  good  and  the  valleys  very  fertile.    The  intro- 


NEW   YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


106 


duction  of  the  rail-road,  however,  will  develop  its  agri- 
cultural resources  and  make  them  flourish,  just  as  its  lum- 
bering interests  have  done  by  reason  of  the  easy  outlet 
furnished  J)y  water  communication. 

A  run  through  a  straight  section  of  one  mile  due  west 
from  Deposit  brings  us  to  Oquago  Creek.  This  is  the 
last  tributary  of  the  Delaware  we  meet,  whose  waters  we 
have  now  traced  through  a  distance  of  90  miles.  Here 
ends  the  slight  ascending  grade  extending  from  Delaware, 
and  here,  too,  begins  the  grade  of  58  feet  per  mile  we  must 
ascend  to  surmount  the  high  mountain  wall  between  us 
and  the  Susquehanna.  The  summit  we  are  to  cross  is 
1366  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  Deposit  is  only 
997 — a  difierence  to  be  overcome  in  about  eight  miles. 
Passing  the  Oqiiago  and  two  heavy  rock-cuttings,  remind- 
ing us  of  Shohola,  we  now  begin  our  sidelong  ascent  of  the 
mountain.  Every  rod  of  it  attests  the  labor  here  encoun- 
tered, and  the  scenery  suddenly  assumes  all  the  wild, 
blighted  features  to  be  found  wherever  these  severe  strug- 
gles with  the  ground  occur.  The  rocky  rubbish,  the  scat- 
tered, splintered,  and  burned  trees  in  every  possible  posi- 


tion, show  the  first  obstmate  resistance  made  to  the  engi- 
neer, and  a  lonely  shanty,  half  buried  in  the  riven  earth, 

5* 


106 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


only  adds  to  tlie  desolation  of  the  battle-ground.  The 
whole  ascent  is  full  of  niterest.  Spur  after  spur  of  the 
mountain  is  doubled  in  our  upward,  spiral  flight,  and  ev- 
ery curve  in  the  road  presents  new  views  of  savage  land- 
scape. The  wildest  of  these  you  may  see  four  miles  from  * 
Deposit,  where  we  reach  an  extensive  gi'avel  bank.  Ap- 


proaching this  at  sunset,  the  laborers  look  like  ants  busily  at 
work,  while  the  huge  bonfires  made  of  the  tree-stumps,  the 
hemlock  groves,  the  yellow  bank,  and  figures  of  the  work- 
men, form  a  picture  worthy  of  "  Savage  Hosa." 


NEW   YORK    AND   ERIE    RAII.-ROAD.  107 

A  little  beyond  this  there  are  some  superb  views  up  and 
down  the  valley  on  our  right,  while  we  cut  our  way  along 


the  mountain  side  by 
means  of  prodigious 
embankments.  With- 
in two  miles  of  the 
top,  ihe  few  houses 
occasionally  seen  on 
our  right  entirely  dis- 
appear, and  we  enter 
a  perfect  solitude — a 
close  forest  of  som- 
ber hemlock,  whose 
blackened  stems,  and 
broken  and  scattered 
trunks  are  in  fit  keep- 
ing with  its  oppressive  gloom  and  silence  (see  cut  at  head 
of  next  page).  Glad  to  escape  from  this  dismal  avenue 
into  a  sunny  clearing,  we  soon  enter  a  straight  cut  of  a 
mile  running  west,  and  there,  "  darkly  painted  on  the  crim- 
son sky,"  stands  the  enormous  portal  through  the  mount- 
ain top  that  fitly  gives  its  name  to  the  station  of 

Summit  (from  New  York  184|-  miles,  from  Dunkirk  275^ 
miles).    In  approaching  this  prodigious  pass,  the  traveler 


106 


GUIDE- BcXjK   of  THK 


should  bribe  the  engineer  for  the  privilege  of  one  of  his 
windows,  and  see  it  as  we  describe  it  at  sunset.  From 
the  ordinary  seat  of  a  car  you  can  see  nothing  of  its  irreg- 
ular profile,  as  it  looms  up  before  a  black  mass  of  rocky 
outline,  having  no  foliage  of  any  sort  to  soften  its  severe 
features,  and  only  crested  with  half  a  dozen  branchless 


NEW   YORK   AND  EllIE  RAlL-ROAT). 


100 


hemlocks,  some  80  feet  in  height,  bristling  on  the  right 
edge  of  the  gap,  serving  us  to  judge  of  the  height  of  the 
cut,  which,  from  its  top  to  the  track,  is  200  feet.  The 
left  side  is  a  sheer  precipice  nearly,  but  the  profile  of  the 
right  bank  is  finely  broken  up,  showing  first  a  mass  of 
slate  rock  60  feet  high,  and  then,  sloping  upward  with 
loose,  crumbling  stone,  it  terminates  in  a  crest  of  splin- 
tered rock,  tipped  with  the  blighted  hemlocks.  One  of 
these  trees  reclines  over  the  ledge  in  a  very  curious  and 
imminent  way,  as  though  it  would  every  moment  dart 
downward.  Between  you  and  this  pass  is  a  table-land 
on  each  side  of  the  track,  covered  with  shanties  and  half 
a  dozen  w^retched  houses,  of  the  tenants  of  which  you  are 
not  long  kept  in  doubt  by  the  rich  brogue  issuing  from 
them.  A  simple  platform  constitutes  the  station  here — 
quite  sufficient  for  its  wants,  as  one  may  judge  on  looking 
over  the  wild  and  unimproved  settlement  adjoining.  It 
is  well  worth  while  for  the  traveler  to  ascend  the  right 
cliff  of  the  "cut."  The  view  westward  from  that  point 
is  extraordinary,  and  in  winter  presents  the  very  picture 
of  extreme  desolation,  when  the  shanty  roofs  are  but  just 


above  the  snow,  and  the  scorched  and  charred  hemlocks 
and  black  rock  of  the  pass  look  doubly  black,  looming  out 


110 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


from  the  mantle  that  whitens  all  thmgs  else.  Such  a 
mass  of  riven  rock,  and  of  burned,  fallen  timber,  never  were 
huddled  together  as  you  see  here  on  this  pinnacle,  swept 
clean  by  the  tempests.  The  last  desperate  stand  against 
the  engineer  was  made  here  ;  and  the  charred  fragments 
of  bulky  trees  look  as  though  vanquished  Nature  had  here 
sought  her  funeral  pyre  I 

There  is  a  large  water-tank  at  the  mouth  of  the  cut, 
and  a  ''turn-out,''  with  engine-house,  in  case  an  engine 
may  be  required  at  this  point.  The  accumulation  of  snow 
in  the  jaws  of  the  cut  often  arrests  the  progress  of  the 
train,  and  then  extra  locomotives  are  ordered  up  from  De- 
posite  or  from  Susquehanna,  on  the  other  side  of  the  sum- 
mit. It  puzzles  one  to  know  what  supports  the  tenants 
of  those  shanties  of  a  kennel's  size  and  a  pig-sty's  cleanli- 
ness ;  but  they  are  occupied  by  workmen  engaged  along 
the  road  in  this  region,  who  found  convenient  these  huts, 
established  at  the  "summit"  during  the  long  siege  of  its 
rocky  barrier.  Oh,  Ireland  I  if  your  sons  would  only  ap- 
ply a  little  of  their  irresistible  pioneer  muscle,  that  has 
so  universally  cleared  the  earth  of  its  obstacles  to  civiliza- 
tion, to  the  task  of  beautifying  the  soil  thus  prepared, 
what  a  garden  this  western  world  would  be.  But  no  I 
though  this  little  bit  of  level  soil  under  the  shadow  of  the 
summit  is  not  ungrateful,  the  denizens  of  those  styes  scorn 
the  ''foreign  aid  of  ornament"  or  tidiness  ;  and  so  that 
puddle  is  found  to  be  convenient  near  the  door,  and  that 
barrel  makes  a  good  chimney,  and  flowers  don't  support 
life,  and  so  the  pigs  walk  in  and  out  as  they  please. 

The  cut  through  the  summit  winds  along  half  a  mile, 
though  it  does  not  retain  its  rocky  character  far  beyond 
the  eastern  entrance.  It  is  not  delved  through  a  contin- 
uous or  compact  mass  of  rock,  but  in  many  parts  the  sides 
are  of  a  soft,  crumbling  texture,  which,  by  the  constant 
dripping  from  the  solid  ledges,  are  turned  into  a  sort  of  paste 
on  each  side  of  the  road.    The  geological  student  wiU  find 


NEW   YORK  AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


this  a  great  field  of  study.  These  drippings  during  win- 
ter form  enormous  icicles,  hanging  like  pointed  gray-beards 
from  the  rugged  cheek  of  the  pass,  and  falling  in  frag- 
ments below  by  the  concussion  of  a  passing  train,  "VYe 
have  stood  in  that  pass  during  the  hottest  days  of  the 
year,  and  found  the  air  cool ;  and  in  the  winter  old  Bo- 
reas hoAvls  along  its  corridor  as  though  it  were  a  musical 
hall  expressly  made  for  the  exercise  of  his  lungs.  The 
cost  of  this  rock-cut  through  Summit  was  over  $200,000. 

Leaving  this  magnificent  monument  of  the  enterprise 
of  the  company  and  the  skill  of  the  engineer,  we  now  de- 
scend the  mountain  by  a  grade  of  60  feet,  and  nearly  of 
the  same  length  with  the  eastern  ascent.  We  are  enter- 
ing the  picturesque  portion  of  the  road,  or  w^hat  is  called 
by  the  profession  the  '  Susquehanna  Division."  Who  that 
w^as  one  of  the  party  will  ever  forget  the  first  memorable 
crossing  of  the  mountain,  "in  December,  1848,  when  the 
road  was  formally  opened  from  Delaw^are  as  far  as  Bing- 
hamton  ;  and  when  the  elements  conspired,  but  in  vain, 
to  keep  back  the  festival  trains,  that  cut  their  way  through 


112 


CiUlDE-noOK   OF  THE 


the  snow.  The  crossing  of  the  Alps  by  Napoleon's  le- 
gions was  not  more  glorious  or  wonderful ;  and  the  ac- 
clamation of  the  people  that  waited  our  arrival  along  the 
track,  in  the  midst  of  the  most  violent  of  snow-storms, 
proved  how  welcome  were  these  conquerors  of  space,  and 
harbingers  of  trade,  intercourse,  and  civilization. 

Four  miles  of  the  descent  from  Summit  are  as  stupid 
as  can  possibly  be.  The  view  is  shut  in  by  the  wood  on 
each  side,  and  not  even  a  shanty  peeps  out  from  its  dull 
covert.  But  this  same  section  acts  as  a  whet  to  our  keen 
curiosity  for  what  is  beyond ;  and  it  is  first  gratified  by 
our  arrival  at  the  famous 

Cascade  Bridge  (from  New  York  188^  miles,  from 
Dunkirk  27 1|  miles).  This  stupendous  wooden  structure 
consists  of  a  single  arch,  250  feet  in  width,  thrown  over  a 
ravine  184  feet  in 
depth.  The  span  of 
the  arch  has  a  rise 
of  50  feet,  and  we 
believe  .far  surpass- 
es in  width  any  oth- 
er in  the  world  con- 
structed of  timber. 
This  ravine  is  very 
narrow,  and  is  ap- 
proached and  cross- 
ed so  rapidly  that  a 
person  in  the  cars 
can  form  no  idea  of  the  bridge  itself,  though  we  can  see 
the  gulf,  and  judge  of  its  depth  by  a  glance  at  the  tops 
of  the  pines,  descending,  row  by  row,  to  the  rocky,  thread- 
like stream  at  the  bottom  of  its  gloomy  jaws.  To  judge 
of  the  bridge  and  the  gulf  properly,  it  must  be  explored 
leisurely,  and  a  day  can  easily  be  consumed  in  examining 
both  from  their  various  points  of  view.  Descending  the 
east  side  by  a  path  supplied  with  a  secure  balustrade  in 


AEW    YOlvlv    ANI>   EKIIC    J^AIL-ROAD  11") 

the  shape  of  stout  saplings,  we  come  to  the  bottom  of  the 
gulf,  and  see  this  wonderful  structure,  as  it  were,  suspend- 
ed in  the  air  above  us,  so  airily,  with  all  its  strength, 
seems  its  graceful  arch  to  span  the  chasm.  The  train 
crossing  it  now  looks  like  a  toy-cart,  and  the  laborers  at 
work  on  the  west  side  are  dwindled  to  mere  atoms.  Fol- 
lowing up  the  stream,  we  stand  immediately  under  its 

arch,  and  can  well  see  the 
huge  ribs,  joints,  and  sin- 
ews that  form  its  powerful 
anatomy.  This  is  the  best 
point  of  view  whence  to 
comprehend  the  strength 
and  beauty  of  the  work. 
Instead  of  resting  upon 
frail  piers  erected  by  the 
hand  of  man,  each  leg  of 
the  arch  is  supported  on 
and  in  deep  shelves  hewn 
into  the  solid  rock,  that  ris- 
es wall-like  on  both  sides 
of  the  chasm  ;  and  while 
these  eternal  foundations  stand,  so  will  the  bridge.  Its 
arch  is  made  of  eight  ribs  of  white  oak,  two  feet  square 
in  the  center,  and  two  feet  by  four  at  the  abutments. 
These  are  interlaced  with  wood  and  iron  braces  in  a  way 
to  show  how  well  strength  is  combined  with  lightness  in 
its  airy  structure.  The  width  of  the  bridge  is  24  feet, 
with  a  light  railing  ;  its  surface  is  protected  by  a  gravel 
cement.  Such  is  the  Cascade  Bridge,  whose  simple  sym- 
metrical form  would  perhaps  conceal  the  effect  of  its  vast- 
ness,  were  it  not  set  in  such  a  stupendous  chasm.  Of  this 
chasm  we  must  say  a  word,  for  the  preparation  of  the 
gulf  for  the  erection  of  the  bridge  appears  nearly  as  won- 
derful as  the  structure  itself.  We  have  said  that  the  walls 
of  the  ravine  are  of  solid  rock.    The  west  side  rises  almost 


G I  IDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


a  sheer  precipice,  while  the  east,  immediately  under  the 
bridge,  is  more  sloping.  Both 
sides  were  originally  covered 
with  a  dense  grove  of  hemlock, 
such  as  you  see  just  above  the 
bridge.  To  remove  this  was  a 
Herculean  task,  as  was  also  the 
excavation  of  the  rock  for  the 
support  of  the  arch.  Here,  then, 
we  see  the  bare,  steep  rock  of  the 
west  side  completely  shorn  of 
vegetation,  with  nothing  but 
tree-stumps,  standing  out  like 
bosses  from  its  breast-plate  of  stone.  On  the  west  side  a 
vast  pile  of  broken  rock  slopes  down  to  the  stream,  choked 
up  with  stony  rubbish,  and  huge  trees  hurled  there  from 
the  heights  above.  Some  old  tressels  still  protrude  from 
this  debris,  and  the  whole  appearance  of  the  "wreck 
of  matter"  attests  the  violent  birth  whence  sprung  the 
fair  and  secure  fabric  overhead.  The  best  general  view 
of  the  bridge  and  chasm  is  the  one  we  present  from  the 


NEW   YOIUv    AND   ERIC  IIAIL-ROAD, 


115 


quarry  below,  oii  the  west  side,  whence  most  of  the  stone 
for  the  Starrucca  Viaduct  was  procured.  The  view  of  the 
bridge  from  the  bed  of  the  creek  is  obscured  by  the  thick 
foHage,  but  still  the  glimpses  it  affords,  though  but  par- 
tial, are  very  striking. 

But  you  will  ask,  Why  Cascade  Bridge  ?  In  rainy 
weather  you  will  ask,  Where  is  the  cascade  ?  for  the  di- 
minished volume  of  the  fall  that  confers  its  title  to  the 
bridge  can  not  make  itself  heard,  loud  as  it  is,  through  the 
dense  thicket  of  hemlock  that  muffles  its  "quiet  tune," 
save  when  the  skies  give  it  a  full,  whole  choral  band. 
The  cascade  is  a  few  yards  above  the  bridge,  but  entirely 
concealed,  unless  you  scramble  down  a  succession  of  rocky 
ledges,  and  get  a  close  look  at  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
water-falls  imaginable,  about  60  feet  high  when  the  cur- 
rent is  full,  but  merely  streaking  with  white  rills  the  green 
rocks  when  the  clouds  refuse  the  proper  supplies.  Anoth- 
er cascade,  of  thread-like  proportions,  takes  the  ravine  at 
one  single  leap  from  a  point  between  the  great  fall  and 
the  bridge  ;  but  they  are  both  invisible,  except  to  tourists 
willing  to  risk  their  necks  for  a  glimpse  at  their  coy  beau- 
ties. It  is  to  be  hoped  the  wood  concealing  them  may 
soon  be  thinned  out,  and  the  picturesque  attractions  of  the 
spot  be  allowed  a  fair  chance  with  the  grand  and  won- 
derful. A  light,  secure  stairway,  leading  down  the  ledges 
of  rock  near  the  great  cascade,  would  be  also  a  valuable 
improvement.  At  present  there  are  obstacles  to  a  general 
thronging  of  visitors,  owing  to  the  untamed  wildness  of 
the  chasm  and  the  want  of  suitable  accommodations  in 
the  neighborhood.  AVere  the  improvements  suggested  car- 
ried out,  and  a  neat,  comfortable  public  house  established 
in  the  grove  below  the  bridge,  the  Cascade  Bridge  would 
be  a  favorite  resort  to  tourists  and  pleasure  parties  during 
summer. 

Some  persons  think  the  Cascade  Ravine  might  have 
been  crossed  in  a  less  expensive  and  more  enduring  way 


116 


UUl  DE-BOOK   OF  THL 


by  filling  it  in.  A 
glance  at  the  chasm 
should  surely  con- 
vince them  of  their 
mistake.  Imagine 
the  lump  of  mother 
earth  necessary  to 
fill  up  that  deep 
wrinkle  in  her  fair 
cheek  I  Reflect  on 
the  requisite  width 
of  such  a  mound, 
and  what  a  culvert 
— nay,  a  bridge — 
would  need  to  per- 
forate it  as  a  vent  to  the  stream  when  swollen  to  a  torrent 
of  resistless  volume  !  Instead,  then,  of  a  clumsy  embank- 
ment, with  a  culvert,  perhaps,  unsuited  to  the  wants  of 
the  creek,  here  we  have  a  strong  and  enduring  bridge — a 
monument  of  skill — an  arch  of  triumph — a  wonder  of  the 
world — not  marring,  but  heightening  by  contrast  the  ro- 
mantic beauties  of  the  ravine.  Well  did  General  Scott 
exclaim,  after  watching  a  heavy  train  cross  its  untrem- 
bling  fabric,  "  The  man  who  could  throw  a  cow-path  over 
that  gulf  deserves  a  crown  I" 

This  bridge  cost  about  $70,000,  was  a  year  and  a  half 
in  building,  and  is  the  work  of  Jolm  Fowler.  From  the 
bridge,  looking  north,  we  catch  the  first  glimpse  of  the 
Valley  of  the  Susquehanna,  which,  a  few  yards  further, 
bursts  upon  our  view  in  all  its  unconcealed  loveliness. 
Emerging  from  the  close,  tedious  lane  that  has  so  long 
hemmed  us  in,  we  run  along  a  straight  terrace  cut  in  the 
mountain  side  200  feet  above  the  valley,  and  look  down 
upon  a  landscape,  the  shortest  glance  at  which  will  for- 
ever haunt  the  traveler  with  its  vision  of  beauty.  It 
seems  as  if  this  lovely  river  and  vale  had  gathered  their 


NEW    YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


119 


choicest  charms  into  one  gracious  greeting,  to  cheer  us 
after  the  passage  of  the  "wild  and  desolate  mountain  be- 
hind. We  have  attempted  to  convey  an  idea  of  the  sweet 
features  of  this  remarkable  landscape,  but  what  pencil  or 
pen  can  portray  the  soul  and  essence  of  the  beauty  wrapped 
in  their  delicious  hues — the  pastoral  repose  brooding  over 
those  undulating  hills  and  fair  meadows,  receding  in  the 
far,  misty  distance,  when  seen  under  an  autumnal  sky  ? 
The  swelling  mass  of  the  wooded  mountain  on  the  left, 
with  its  shadowy  form  reflected  in  that  broad  curve  of  the 
river,  contrasts  well  with  the  expanse  of  fields  and  pas- 
tures gently  swelling  upward  on  the  right  ;  and  while  the 
stream,  momentarily  vanishing,  again  lights  up  the  dis- 
tant vale  with  two  bright  links  of  its  current,  the  plain 
immediately  below  us  shows  a  snug  farm-house,  with  its 
barns,  orchard,  and  garden,  and  bright,  green  meadows 
dotted  with  cattle,  that  gladden  the  heart  with  a  sense  of 
the  perfect  peace  and  prosperity  assuredly  dwelling  there. 
There  is  no  wildness,  no  sublimity  in  this  landscape  ;  but 
there  it  lies,  beneath  that  wall  of  hemlock  over  which  we 
look,  in  all  its  quiet,  gentle  loveliness,  sinking  with  an  in- 
expressible charm  into  the  heart  of  the  traveler.  The 
American  landscape  should  be  always  seen  in  the  autumn, 
to  judge  of  the  true  extent  of  its  magnificence  ;  and  no- 
where does  that  glorious  season  light  up  the  landscape 
more  brilliantly  than  here  "  on  Susquehanna  side."  Thus, 
fellow-traveler,  we  come  to  the  scene  where  the  graceful 
belt  of  light  trees  and  natural  shrubbery  skirting  each  edge 
of  the  stream  below,  and  occasionally  throwing  out  fantas- 
tic semicircular  clumps  of  willows  into  the  smooth  mead- 
ows, divide  with  their  brilliant  colors  the  warm  green  of 
the  pastures  from  the  cool  blue  current  winding  among 
them — where  (it  being  a  grazing  region)  these  exquisite 
hues  are  not  marred  by  stiibble-fields,  but  retain  their  un- 
earthy,  delicate  verdure  through  all  seasons — where  the 
hemlock  groves  scattered  along  the  landscape  relieve  the 


120 


GU] DE-HOOK  OF  THE 


woods  of  their  otherwise  excessive  brilliancy — where  the 
amber  light  of  autumn  suffuses  the  whole  valley,  to  whose 
"winding"  river  you  may  apply  those  happy  Unes  of  Rog- 
ers ; 

"  Like  a  silver  zone 
Thrown  about  carelessly,  it  shines  afar, 
Catching  the  eye  in  many  a  broken  link, 
In  many  a  turn  and  traverse  as  it  glides.' 

Fortunately,  the  length  of  the  high  embanked  terrace 
whence  we  see  this  famous  landscape,  and  the  check  put 
upon  our  steed  by  the  considerate  engineer,  allow  us  full 
time  to  observe  all  its  beauties,  over  which  we  would  fain 
linger.  The  inexorable  hemlock,  however,  at  last  shuts 
out  the  vision,  and  we  lose  sight  of  the  river  altogether 
while  cutting  through  the  base  of  the  mountain  we  have 
been  skirting.  Dreary,  deep  sand-banks  and  shattered 
timber  are  all  we  see  in  this  winding  cut ;  but  its  termi- 
nation brings  us  before  another  superb  prospect,  of  a  char- 
acter different  from  the  enchanting  scene  just  left.  Here 
we  have  the  first  view  of  the 

Starrucca  Viaduct  (from  New  York  190  miles,  from 
Dunkirk  270  miles),  which,  even  at  this  distance  (one 
mile),  when  sunset  lights  up  its  arches,  sheds  a  peculiar 


dignity  and  splendor  over  the  landscape.  The  valley  im- 
mediately below  us  shows  its  recent  redemption  by  its 


NEW    YORK    AISD   EUiE  RAIL-ROAU. 


121 


black  stumps  and  uncultivated  knolls  ;  but  beyond  these 
are  meadows  and  groves  betokening  an  old  settlement,  to- 
gether with  the  outline  of  a  village  placed  at  the  base  of 
the  noble  hills  that  inclose  this  grand  prospect  on  every 
side.  A  run  of  two  miles  from  the  Cascade  Bridge  brings 
us  to  the  viaduct,  that  takes  its  name  from  the  Starrucca 
Creek,  that  here,  issuing  from  a  vale  of  the  same  title, 
runs  into  the  Susquehanna.  This  magnificent  structure 
is  the  greatest  work  of  art  along  the  rail-road,  and  ranks 
among  the  first  works  of  its  kind  in  this  country.  It  is 
1200  feet  long,  110  feet  high,  and  has  18  arches  with 


spans  of  50  feet.  Its  body  is  24  feet  in  width,  but  the  top 
is  30  feet,  afibrding  space  enough  for  a  double  track.  Its 
appearance  would  be  much  improved  by  a  parapet ;  but 
this  deficiency  is  somewhat  remedied  by  an  iron  railing 
on  each  side.  Like  the  Cascade  Bridge,  the  viaduct  can 
not  be  seen  to  advantage  unless  you  descend,  and  view  it 
from  various  points  below.  The  best  of  these  is  at  the 
northeast  anpfle.  whence  the  beautifullv-curved  arches,  and 


122 


GUIUE-UUUK    Ul'  lUL 


light,  thoudi  substantial  piers,  recede  from  the  eye  in  ex- 
quisite symmetry.  On  the  west  side  rmmerous  shanties 
and  otlier  comman-place  huildinf^s  obstruct  the  view  very 
much  :  but  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  Susquehanna  an 
unobstructed  view  can  be  had  of  its  whole  length,  as,  like 
a  huge  centipede,  it  pats  do'xm  its  many  feet  across  the 


Starrucca  Vale.  The  creek  passes  under  one  arch  near 
its  southern  end,  and  is  famous  for  the  excellent  trout  in 
its  waters  higher  up.  Below  the  bridge  it  serves  several 
mills,  supporting  the  small  community  here,  and  crosses 
the  valley  to  the  river  completely  hidden  in  a  dense  grove 
of  elm,  birch,  and  willows.  The  stone  of  which  the  via- 
duct is  built  was  brought  partly  from  above  on  the  creek, 
and  partly  from  the  quarry  we  saw  at  the  Cascade  Bridge, 
and  has  proved  a  good  material.  The  whole  work  was 
intrusted  to  Mr.  Kirkwood,  the  late  efficient  superintend- 
ent of  the  road,  who  executed  his  great  trust  within-  a 
twelve  month  from  its  commencement.  The  entire  cost 
of  the  structure  was  $320,000.    The  viaduct,  like  the 


NEW   YORK   AND  ERIE   KAIT.-ROA D. 


123 


Cascade  Bridge,  was  deemed  unnecessary  by  the  advocates 
of  the  Jilling-i7i  process  ;  but,  though  very  expensive,  it  is 
undoubtedly  the  cheapest  and  most  durable  mode  of  car- 
rying the  road  over  this  ravine  ;  and  w^ho  can  regret  the 
choice  that  adds  such  a  noble  architectural  feature  to  the 
attractions  of  nature  and  art  in  this  particular  region, 
where  haply  cluster  the  great  monuments  of  the  enter- 
prise and  liberality  of  the  company. 

The  view  from  the  viaduct  is  very  imposing,  for  the 
mountains  rise  around  us  like  a  circle  of  giants,  and  the 
valley  has  recovered  the  smile  of  cultivation  with  which 
it  first  welcomed  us.  Looking  south,  we  see  above  the 
richest  of  groves  the  village  of  Lanesborough,  with  its  tres- 
sle  bridge,  over  which  we  pass  in  a  few  minutes,  our  eleva- 
tion enabling  us  to 
look  down  the  chim- 
neys of  that  com- 
munity. This  tres- 
sle  bridge  is  450 
feet  long,  and  70 
feet  above  the  Can- 
ewacta  Creek,  that 
here  issues  from  a 
narrow  glen,  and  is 
also  a  tributary  to 
the  Susquehanna.  In  any  other  part  of  the  road  this  beau- 
tiful fabric  would  excite  a  sensation  ;  but  near  the  two 
structures  just  passed,  its  interest  lies  chiefly  in  the  effect 
of  carrying  us  over  the  white,  upturned  gaze  of  wonder- 
ing" villagers,  that  rush  to  their  doors  and  watch  our  lofty 
transit  above  their  heads.  At  this  point  the  Susquehanna, 
so  long  hidden,  suddenly  sweeps  into  view  through  mead- 
ows extending  beyond  the  village,  and  touches  close  on 
our  right,  to  remain  our  companion  for  many  miles.  Just 
before  reaching  the  Starrucca  Viaduct  we  again  entered 
the  Q,uaker  state,  into  which  commonwealth  the  Susque- 


124 


GUIDE-liOOK  OF  THE 


hana  here  drops  a  graceful  loop,  called  the  Great  Bena. 
Laneshorough,  therefore,  is  a  village  of  Susquehanna  coun- 
ty, in  that  state.  It  contains  some  300  or  400  inhabitants, 
has  several  mills  and  tanneries,  and  two  hotels. 

From  Lanesborough  we  enter  a  long,  straight  rocky  cut 
of  a  mile,  quite  close  to  the  Susquehanna,  that  flows  rap- 
idly and  clearly  30  feet  below  us,  though  we  have  nearly 
finished  the  descent  of  the  grade  of  60  feet  from  Summit. 
Huge  buttresses  of  gray  rock  divide  us  from  the  river,  like 
those  on  the  Shohola  cut.  Looking  behind  us  now,  we 
enjoy,  by  means  of  the  new  turn  in  our  track,  a  magnifi- 
cent revieiv  of  the  natural  and  artificial  glories  just  passed, 
afibrding  us  altogether  the  gra7idest  prospect  to  be  met 
with  between  the  Hudson  and  the  Lake.  The  river,  the 
village,  the  bridge,  and  the  viaduct  stretch  in  an  unob- 


structed line  behind  us  ;  but,  to  have  this  view  m  perfec- 
tion, the  tourist  must  ascend  the  old  road,  extending,  over 
the  hill  above  us,  from  the  village  of  Lanesborough  to  the 
station  of  Susquehanna.  The  difference  between  these 
two  views  may  be  judged  from  our  illustrations,  and  the 


NEW    YORK    AND    ERIE    RAiJ.-KOAL»  127 

vast  extent  given  to  the  prospect  by  ascending  to  the  high 
er  point  of  view  was  alone  wanting  to  make  it  what  it  is, 
one  of  unsurpassed  magnificence.  It  may  be  said  to  form 
an  epitome  of  the  glories,  natural  and  artificial,  of  the  New 
York  and  Erie  Rail-road.  From  the  foreground  in  the  pic- 
ture, beneath  us  recede  the  river  and  the  rail-road,  both 
to  vanish  in  the  dense  forest  of  hemlock,  whose  varied 
pointed  summits  give  such  a  peculiar  grandeur  to  the  dis- 
tant horizon.  The  river,  on  the  left,  leaves  us  in  two 
broad  curves,  one  of  which  is  rippled  over  by  a  dam,  and 
the  nearer  one  crossed  by  an  old  bridge,  from  which  that 
yellow  thread  of  the  turnpike  winds  up  and  down  the 
slopes  of  its  left  bank.  On  the  right  the  road  starts  from 
the  bridge  ovei'  the  toivn,  whose  neat  church,  and  old  red 
mills,  and  white  houses  peep  out  from  willow  groves  and 
those  old  gray-stemmed  sycamores,  and  makes  a  beautiful 
and  unbroken  curve  of  three  miles,  to  vanish  in  the  hem- 
locks, where  the  river  disappears.  The  unobstructed  view 
of  this  section  of  the  road  is  very  interesting  ;  and  mid- 
way upon  its  thread-like  track  stands  the  great  viaduct, 
through  whose  arches  the  sunlight  falls  aslant,  and  over' 
whose  stately  form  the  mountains,  as  though  determined 
to  do  justice  to  such  a  proud  neighbor,  gather  their  crests 
up  into  bold,  precipitous  peaks,  quite  unlike  their  adjacent 
round-head  brethren.  Between  these  two  arcs  of  the 
road  and  river  stretch  the  most  beautiful  meadovv  s,  crossed 
and  dotted  with  every  variety  of  clumps,  groves,  and  dense 
avenues  of  trees,  while  the  white  walls  of  the  village  and 
scattered  dwellings  give  an  animated  character  to  the 
scene,  making  its  coinposition  complete.  This  superb 
landscape  should  also  be  seen  in  autumn,  when,  though 
those  bold  hemlock  hills  in  the  distance  and  above  the  vi- 
aduct still  retain  their  sober  suit  of  dark  green,  the  gen- 
tler summits  are  richly  bronzed  by  the  early  frosts,  and 
the  motley  grove  skirting  the  Starrucca  Creek  spans  the 
golden  green  expanse  of  meadow  like  a  rainbow. 


ot  !i)]:-ji(iuK  iji  ilii: 


Nearly  two  miles  irorii  Laiiesborough  we  arrive  at  the 
Susquehanna  station  (from  New  York  192^  miles,  from 
Dunkirk  267|-  miles),  placed  on  a  narrow  strip  of  land  be- 
tween the  river  and  the  hills,  that  now  close  up  on  either 
hand.  Strictly  the  name  of  this  locality  is  Harmony  ; 
but  what  was  once  a  mere  collection  of  huts,  with  a  little 
public  house,  is  now  an  important  depot  or  hospital  for 
disabled  engines  and  cars,  and  stables  for  those  in  daily 
use.  The  necessary  buildings  for  such  an  establishment, 
wherQ  engines  and  cars  are  repaired,  of  course  make  this 
an  important  and  bustling  place,  in  addition  to  the  less 
noisy  business  of  a  station.  The  engine-houses  here  are 
substantial  tenements,  and  in  the  neat  stables  are  accom- 


modations for  30  of  these  metal  steeds.  The  number  of 
hands  employed  is  about  200  ;  and  their  wants,  and  those 
of  the  engine  drivers  and  firemen  who  end  their  day's  work 
here,  have  caused  the  erection  of  spacious  boarding-houses 
and  a  few  tasty  cottages,  along  the  hill  overhanging  the 
depot.  The  ground  has  been  laid  off  into  ■  lots,  churches 
have  been  built  on  the  hill,  and  a  thriving  village  has 
sprung  up. 

Travelers  visiting  the  Cascade  Bridge  and  Starrucca  Via- 
duct will  leave  the  cars  here,  and  go  back  to  Lanesborough, 
one  mile,  by  carnage. 

We  are  now  at  the  bottom  of  tho  descent  from  Summit, 


XKW    YORK    A\D   ERIK  KAIL-ROAD. 


12U 


and  enter  upon  the  lightest  grade  of  the  road,  extending 
as  far  as  Hornellsville.  The  ascent  on  this  section,  going 
west,  is  nowhere  over  Jive  feet  to  the  mile.  We  also,  at 
this  point,  bid  adieu  to  the  grand  and  romantic  scenery  of 
the  road,  though  we  shall  find  before  us  much  that  is  pic- 
turesque. This  is  the  character  of  the  Susquehanna  where 
we  cross  its  rapid  current,  half  a  mile  beyond  the  station, 
by  a  wooden  covered  bridge  800  feet  long,  with  one  span 
of  186,  and  four  others  of  150  feet.  There  are  actually 
two  bridges,  joined  by  a  wooded  island  in  the  stream,  whose 


wild  trees  and  the  high  hills  around  make  the  spot  very 
picturesque.  The  country  around  this  point  has  been  fa- 
mous as  a  hunting  field,  and  many  are  the  stories  told  by 
the  old  Nimrod  that  "keeps"  the  bridge  of  not  only  hunt- 
ing deer  and  game,  but  also  of  the  sterner  sport  of  hunting 
bears  and  panthers,  that  not  long  since  abounded  in  the 
adjacent  forest.  It  is  said  deer  are  often  seen  swimming 
the  Susquehanna  near  the  bridge. 

Our  course  now  lies  on  the  right  bank  of  the  river,  that 
leads  us  a  winding  course  among  the  hills,  though  now 
and  then  we  bolt  from  its  company.  We  are  very  little 
above  its  surface,  and  the  work  for  five  miles  is  very  light. 
At  that  point,  however,  we  pass  through  several  rock-cut- 

6* 


130  (.ri;iT)E-BO<DK   OF  THE 

tings,  where  the  views  are  truly  beautiful.    The  last  of 


these  "  cuts"  shows  a  steep  face  of  rock  about  74  feet  in 
height,  the  last  resistance  of  the  soil  we  encounter  for  very 


i\EW    YORK.   AND   ERIE    RAIE-ROAD.  13  i 

many  miles.  Leaving  the  river  here,  we  rush  across  a 
fertile  plain,  again  to  touch  its  banks  at  a  point  affording 
one  of  its  choicest  landscapes,  whence,  looking  southwest, 
we  have  one  of  the  finest  views  the  Susquehanna  affords 


In  its  distance  rises  a  high  conical  mountain,  at  the  base 
of  which  lies  the  village  of  Great  Bend,  in  Pennsylvania. 
In  a  few  minutes  we  stop  at  the  station  bearing  the  same 
name. 

Great  Bend  (from  New  York  200^  miles,  from  Dun- 


132  GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 

kirk  2o9  miles),  eiglit  miles  from  tSusqueliaiina.  A  covered 
bridge  crosses  the  Susquehanna  to  the  village,  bearing  the 
same  name,  on  the  south  bank,  which  presents  a  very 
pleasant  view  from  the  station. 


This  station  derives  its  chief  importance  from  the  Dela- 
ware, Lackawanna,  and  Western  Rail-road,  which  connects 
with  the  Erie  Road  here,  and,  crossing  the  Susquehanna  by 
another  covered  bridge,  follows  a  mountain  stream  into  the 
ravine,  which  is  visible  to  the  southward,  and  penetrating 
the  Lackawanna  coal  region,  and  passing  througli  Scranton, 
within  view  of  the  beautiful  and  far-famed  Valley  of  Wyoming, 
crosses  the  wildest  and  most  picturesque  region  of  Pennsyl- 
vania, and  strikes  the  Delaware  River  five  miles  below  the 
Water  G-ap,  which  is  a  pomt  of  celebrated  beauty.  Crossing 
the  Delaware  here,  and  now  taking  the  name  of  the  Warren 
Rail-road,  it  continues  a  few  miles  to  New  Hampton,  where 
it  connects  with  the  New  Jersey  Central  Road.  Passengers 
for  Montrose  and  Tunkhannock  take  this  road. 

Scranton,  the  principal  station  on  it,  is  a  new  place,  on 
the  Lackawanna,  now  numbering  several  thousand  inhabit- 
ants on  ground  Avhich,  in  1845,  was  almost  unknown  to 
civilization.  It  has  iron  and  coal  mines  opening  side  by 
side  in  the  mountain,  and  its  immense  rolling-mills  and 
other  works  make  it  a  place  of  great  interest  to  the  visitor. 

The  person  Avho  is  a  stranger  to  a  coal  country  will  be 
•rratified  bv  a  visit  to  the  Tiaokawanna  reg-ion.  Scranton 


.NEW    YORK   A.ND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


133 


lies  on  the  table  of  the  valley,  the  mills  and  furnaces  being 
in  the  bed  of  Roaring  Brook,  which  comes  down  from  the 
mountains  to  join  the  Lackawanna.  In  the  side  of  the  ra- 
vine of  this  brook  are  the  coal  and  iron  openings,  and  the 
mines  actually  have  their  outlets  in  the  very  shadow  of  the 
furnaces.  The  Scranton  Company  was,  until  1&54,  a  joint- 
stock  company^  owned  cliielly  at  the  East.  In  that  year  it 
became  a  corporation,  and  it  has  been  eminently  successful 
in  its  operations.  The  entire  Lackawamia  Valley  is  interest- 
ing to  the  stranger,  and,  should  he  desire  to  do  so,  he  can  go 
down  to  Scranton  by  the  D.  L.  and  W.  Hoad,  and  thence 
drive  over  to  Carbondale  and  Honesdale,  and  strike  the  Erie 
track  again  at  Isarrowsburgh.  The  valley  formerly  had  no 
outlet  for  its  coal  except  the  coal  rail-road,  which  took  cars 
by  stationaiy  engines  up  and  down  inclined  planes  from  AYyo- 
ming  Valley  to  Haw- ley,  on  the  Delaware  and  Hudson  Canal. 
This  rail-road,  it  is  supposed,  w^ll  supply  both  Kew  York 
and  the  'West  with  anthracite  coal,  and  v/ill  afford  the  most 
direct  means  of  conveyance  hitherto  known  for  that  import- 
ant commodity  to  the  great  metropolis.  From  Scranton  a 
drive  of  twelve  miles  takes  the  traveler  into  the  AVyoming  Val- 
ley at  Pitlston,  where  lie  may  cross  the  Susquehanna,  and 
drive  by  the  Moinmient,  and  along  this  most  holy  ground  in 
America,  passing  the  Forty  Fort  burial-place  and  the  scene 
of  the  massacre,  and  so  to  AVilkesbarre,  seven  miles  below. 

This  whole  coal  region  is  well  Avorthy  a  visit,  and  the 
stranger  will  find  at  Scranton  a  hotel  equal  to  his  highest 
ideas  of  city  accommodations. 

Leaving  Great  Bend,  we  run  northward  through  a  coun- 
try whose  fields  and  numerous  cross-roads  show  that  we 
are  entering  upon  a  more  cultivated  region.  At  the  end 
of  four  miles  we  leave  Pennsylvania  for  the  last  time, 
and  enter  the  empire  state  midw'ay  in  Broome  county, 
which  we  first  approached  at  Deposit.  This  county  was 
first  settled  in  1790,  chiefly  by  persons  from  Massachu- 
Fetts.  though  a  French   colony  had  settled  on   the  Che- 


134 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  TlIK 


nango  in  1787.  It  was  little  known  before  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  until  within  a  few  years  held  a  population  of 
lumbermen.  Since  the  introduction  of  roads  and  canals, 
it  has  advanced  in  agricultural  importance,  and  in  the 
richness  and  abundance  of  its  products  now  vies  with  Or- 
ange. Though  generally  mountainous,  there  is  hardly  a 
hill  not  susceptible  of  cultivation  to  the  very  top.  The 
same,,  however,  may  be  said  of  the  entire  Valley  of  the 
Susquehanna  in  this  region.  Its  sudden  growth  is  pro- 
digious, for  in  the  numerous  large  towns  we  shall  soon  ap- 
proach, many  of  the  settlers  are  still  living  that  first  vis- 
ited them  in  canoes.  As  we  advance  along  this  fine  val- 
ley, the  evidences  of  a  fertile  soil  and  greater  population 
become  evident,  though  the  scenery  proportionally  becomes 
monotonous,  and  the  road,  running  through  a  level  plain, 
presents  nothing  of  interest  in  its  construction. 

KiRKWooD  (from  New  York  206  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
254  miles)  is  a  small  village,  so  called  after  a  former  su- 
perintendent of  the  road.  In  this  neighborhood,  on  the 
north  side  of  the  road,  stands  an  old,  shabby  wooden  house, 
that  may  be  some  day  looked  upon  with  great  reverence, 
propped  up  with  tenderest  care,  and  visited  by  troops  of 
pilgrims  to  view  its  hallowed  timbers.  It  is  the  house  in 
which  was  born  Joe  Smith,  the  Mormon  prophet.  Yes, 
that  shabby  tenement  was  Joe's  cradle,  and  may  be  some 
day  the  thronged  Mecca  to  his  disciples  from  the  mighty 
West.  The  signs  of  increasing  cultivation  and  prosperity 
in  the  farms  w-e  pass  are  gradually  mingled  with  the  un- 
mistakable evidences  of  a  large  town  being  near.  We 
see  successively  wagon-loads  of  town  goods,  then  elegant 
town  vehicles  containing  town-dressed  people,  am.  then 
elegant  suburban  residences,  proofs  of  the  wealth  and 
taste  of  the  community  we  approach,  and  that  is 

BiNGHAMTON  (from  New  York  216  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
245  miles).  This  beautiful  village,  the  largest  and  fair- 
est community  on  the  main  line  of  the  road  we  have  met 


NEW   YORK   AMD   ERIE  RAlI,-ROAD. 


135 


since  leaving  New  York  city,  is  situated  in  a  wide  plain, 
and  on  an  angle  formed  by  the  confluence  of  the  Susque- 
hanna and  the  Chenango  Rivers.  It  was  named  after  its 
original  settler,  Mr.  Bingham,  an  Englishman,  who  died 
in  1804,  leaving  two  daughters,  afterward  married  to  Al- 
exander Baring  and  his  brother  Henry,  the  famous  En- 
glish bankers  of  that  name,  one  of  whom,  it  is  well  known, 
was  afterward  created  Lord  Ashburton.  Binghamton  at 
once  sprang  into  importance  by  its  being  so  happily  placed 
on  two  such  streams,  whose  lumber  and  water-power  forth- 
with formed  the  elements  of  its  prosperity.  Besides  these 
mills,  the  Chenango  Canal,  extending  along  that  river  95 
miles  to  Utica,  proved  the  next  auspicious  source  of  im- 
provement for  Binghamton.  The  flour  trade  by  this  ca- 
nal is  extensive.  That  work,  however,  has  somewhat 
languished  under  the  superior  advantages  afforded  by  the 
Erie  Rail-road,  that  has  given  the  crowning  impulse  to 
the  business  of  Binghamton,  and  thus  we  find  it  a  busy 
town,  containing  some  12000  inhabitants.  The  station  is 
built  on  an  open  area  north  of  the  town,  and  its  offices, 
freight-houses,  and  perfect  maze  of  "turn-outs,"  "switch- 
es," &:c.,  covered  Avith  trains  and  freight-cars,  prove  it  one 
of  first  importance.  The  village  covers  several  hundred 
acres,  and  boasts  many  fine  streets  planted  with  trees, 


13b 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


and  ornamented  with  some  lialf  dozen  churches,  the  coun- 
ty buildings,  and  several  excellent  hotels.  The  side- walks 
are  made  of  plank,  and  prove  both  neat  and  convenient. 
The  canal  passing  through  the  tow^n  gives,  w^ith  its  boats 
and  bridges,  a  peculiar  character  to  the  streets.  A  long 
wooden  bridge  connects  the  main  business  part  with  the 
suburbs  on  the  south  side  of  the  Susquehanna,  as  several 
others  do  with  the  west  side  of  the  Chenango,  where  the 
elegant  private  residences  of  the  older  and  more  opulent 
citizens  are  seen,  with  beautiful  gardens  and  trees  sloping 
down  to  the  Avater's  side.  Standing  on  one  of  these  bridges 
over  the  Chenango  at  sunset,  and  looking  either  north  or 
south  along  these  garden  shores,  the  traveler  will  be  struck 
with  the  beauty  of  the  scene.  Washington  Irving  has  pro- 
nounced them  unsurpassed  in  any  village  he  has  ever  vis- 
ited. On  the  southern  side  of  the  Susquehanna,  and  di- 
rectly opposite  the  junction  of  the  Chenango,  there  is  also, 
from  the  garden  of  Mr.  Eldridge,  an  interesting  view  of 
the  town  ;  and  a  ride  down  the  main  street,  on  the  west 
bank  of  the  Chenango,  will  also  show  the  elegant  taste  of 
the  citizens  in.  architecture  and  ornamental  grounds.  The 
best  general  view  of  Binghamton  and  the  valley  is  to  be 
had  from  a  hill  south  of  the  town,  which  we  have  selected 
as  showing  the  course  of  the  two  rivers  and  the  massing 
of  the  town  most  effectively.  The  drives  in  this  direction 
afford  an  endless  variety  of  extensive  views  of  the  valley 
Directly  west  of,  and  near  the  station,  the  road  crosses  the 
Chenango  by  a  wooden  bridge  of  great  length  and  of  va- 


NEW  YORK    AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD 


139 


ried  design.  Either  end  of  it  is  covered.  Under  the  east- 
ern portion  the  Chenango  Canal  passes. 


Chenango,  in  Indian,  is  said  by  Some  to  mean  "  Beauti- 
ful" or  "Pleasant  Waters,"  while  others  contend  that  it 
means  "Swift  River."  Whichever  be  the  true  significa- 
tion, the  w^ord  will  be  well  applied,  for  a  swifter  or  more 
beautiful  river  never  ran  toward  the  sea. 

With  such  a  position,  in  such  a  fertile  plain,  and  with 
such  rapid  means  of  connection  with  New  York  and  all 
the  minor  points  of  trade  surrounding  it,  what  can  pre- 
vent Binghamton  from  growing  into  an  inland  metropo- 
lis ?  Looking  back  at  its  comparatively  recent  settlement, 
what  a  still  greater  change  may  be  anticipated.  Before 
the  numerous  roads  were  opened  for  its  only  business,  lum- 
ber^ its  only  market  was  Philadelphia.  In  1810  there  was 
but  one  mail  per  week  from  New  York.  With  this  antic- 
ipated growth  of  Binghamton,  it  has  a  community  w^hose 
intelligence,  enterprise,  and  refined  taste  will  keep  pace 
with  its  increasing  wealth.    There  is  no  place  where  hos- 


uu 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  TUK 


pitality  and  social  intercourse  are  conducted  in  a  more  lib- 
eral and  refined  manner.  It  will  never  be  forgotten  with 
what  spirit  its  citizens  got  up  the  celebration  of  the  open- 
ing of  the  road  to  this  place,  on  the  27th  of  December, 
1848,  which,  though  the  elements  ratllfer  combined  to 
make  a  late  collation,  yet  proved  at  the  same  time  the 
warmth  of  a  reception  which  no  frosts  could  chill  or  par- 
alyze. 

The  Syracuse  and  Binghamton  Rail-road  diverges  lieie, 
and  conveys  travelers  through  the  most  pseudo-classical  part 
of  the  state,  passing  through  Maratlion,  Homer,  TuUy,  and 
Apulia,  to  modern  Syracuse. 

Good  hotels  may  be  found  in  Binghamton,  and  the  place 
bids  fair  to  be  the  most  important  in  the  southern  tier  of 
counties.  It  is  now  rivaled  only  by  Elmira,  and  it  is  amus- 
ing to  hear  the  citizens  of  the  two  places  dispute  when  they 
meet.    The  difierence  in' population  is  not  1000. 

The  Albany  and  Susquehanna  Road  also  diverges  here, 
intended  to  convey  passengers  to  Albany.  Some  distance 
up  the  Chenango  a  colony  of  French  settled  in  1790. 
Talleyrand  visited  it  in  1795,  and  took  his  private  secretary 
from  that  place.  The  colony  was  afterward  broken  up  and 
scattered. 

Upon  the  site  of  Binghamton,  a  brigade  of  American 
troops,  in  1779,  under  the  command  of  General  James 
Clinton,  the  father  of  De  Witt  Clinton,  encamped  for  one 
or  two  nights,  on  their  way  to  join  the  main  body  under 
Sullivan,  then  penetrating  westward.  The  first  white 
man  who  made  a  permanent  settlement  in  what  is  claimed 
for  the  village  vicinity  was  Captain  Joseph  Leonard,  who 
was  from  Plymouth,  Massachusetts.  Soon  after  came 
Colonel  William  Rose,  from  Connecticut,  and  then  Whit- 
ney s,  from  Columbia  county.  At  the  time  of  their  settle- 
ment (1787)  their  nearest  white  neighbors  were  at  Tioga, 
a  distance  of  40  miles. — Vide  Wilkinso7t' s  Annals  of 
Binghamton.  1840. 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE   RAIL-ROAD.  141 

In  the  same  annals  is  mentioned  how,  in  consequence 
of  a  freshet  in  1794,  a  great  scarcity  was  felt,  during 
Avhich  a  Major  Stow  shouldered  a  bushel  of  wheat,  in 
which  the  whole  neighborhood  had  a  common  share,  and 
started  for  Wattle's  Ferry  to  mill,  a  distance  of  more  than 
40  miles,  carrying  his  grist  the  whole  distance  on  foot. 
On  his  return  the  neighbors  held  a  sort  of  thanksgiving 
over  their  ''short-cake"  and  a  pound  of  tea  he  had  pur- 
chased, and,  as  they  had  no  hog's  lard,  they  substituted 
bear's  grease  to  make  their  cake  tender. 

Beyond  Binghamton  the  country  continues,  of  the  same 
level,  rich  character,  with  but  few  glimpses  of  the  river 
to  relieve  its  monotony.  The  observant  traveler  will,  on 
this  section  of  the  road,  remark  for  the  first  time  a  double 
row  of  half-decayed  posts  along  the  left  of  the  road,  now 
buried  in  the  soil,  now  rising  above  it  ten  feet,  now  hug- 
ging our  track,  now  bolting  off  at  a  tangent  across  the 
valley,  now  dark  and  decayed,  and  now  fresh  and  strong 
enough  to  bear  bridges  (evidently  never  used)  twenty  feet 
long  I  This  is  a  puzzling  apparition  to  the  stranger  ;  and 
if  you  read  the  early  history  of  this  rail-road,  you  will  un- 
derstand how,  to  the  eyes  of  a  stockholder,  each  of  these 
black  posts  is  a  dismal  monument  to  the  memory  of  mill- 
ions sunk  in  sinking  their  never-used  timbers,  and  how 
those  bridges  are  indeed  veritable  "bridges  of  sighs." 
When  the  New  York  and  Erie  Rail-road,  under  the  stim- 
ulus of  the  state  loan,  was  begun  at  the  Dunkirk  terminus, 
and  was  in  progress  throughout  almost  its  entire  length  in 
1841,  90  miles  of  it,  between  Binghamton  and  Hornells- 
ville,  were  "piled"  with  these  upright  posts,  on  which  the 
road  was  to  rest,  to  be  filled  in  underneath.  To  effect 
this,  an  ingenious  machine  was  invented  and  put  in  oper- 
ation, to  drive  and  saiv  (9^' these  iiiles  with  dispatch  ;  and 
it  is  miclancholy  to  turn  to  the  "journals  of  the  day,"  and 
see  the  enthusiastic  records  of  the  daily  progress  of  this 
wonderful  driver  and  cutter,  as  though  every  post  driven 


142 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


was  an  additional  support  on  which  was  to  rest  the  future 
fortunes  of  the  grillages  along  the  route  I  Ninety  miles  were 
thus  2)osted  uj),  when  the  treasury  of  the  company  became 
embarrassed,  the  work  was  stopped,  and  the  road  at  the 
point  of  death,  when  it  was  resuscitated  by  calling  in  new 
nurses  and  physicians.  When  the  work  was  again  start- 
ed, new  and  improved  modes  of  engineering  showed  that 
it  would  be  actually  cheaper  to  throw  aside  t\iQ  piled  route 
as  useless,  and  run  a  new  line.  This  was  done,  and  the 
track  was  laid  as  it  now  is,  leaving  the  said  outposts  to 
remain  unused,  a  homely  imitation  of  a  Roman  viaduct, 
stretching  mournfully  across  a  wide  campagna  I 

Keeping  along  the  Susquehanna  Valley,  that  remains 
the  same  in  rich  cultivation  as  we  pass  westward,  our 
next  stopping-place  is 

Union  (from  New  York  223  miles,  from  Dunkirk  237 
miles),  nine  miles  beyond  Binghamton.  The  station  stands 
half  a  mile  from  the  village  that  names  it,  a  good  view  of 
which,  and  the  singular  round  hill  adjacent,  may  be  had 


from  the  station.  Union  is  a  thriving  little  village  of 
about  1000  inhabitants,  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  broad 
plain  as  Binghamton  does,  though  half  a  mile  distant  from 
the  Susquehanna.  The  high  round  hill  spoken  of  slopes 
up  from  the  main  street,  and  affords  a  fine  past.ure  to  its 
very  top,  excepting  on  its  southern  face,  which  is  very  pre- 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


143 


cipitous,  and  covered  with  pine  and  hemlock.  From  its 
summit  there  are  superb  views  up  and  down  the  valley 
for  many  miles,  showing  the  windings  of  the  river,  while 
immediately  below  us  its  current  is  broken  up  with  small 
islands,  fringed  with  trees,  and  molded  in  every  variety 
of  fantastic  shape.  These  islands  are  rich  pasturages, 
and  have  on  them  herds  of  cattle  and  flocks  of  geese,  that 
add  much  to  the  quiet  rural  beauty  of  the  river.  Union 
was  settled  in  1789  by  one  Judge  Mersereau,  of  Tioga 
/  county.  He  served  with  distinction  under  Washington, 
who  intrusted  to  his  keeping  certain  British  officers  after 
Burgoyne's  surrender.  The  judge's  wife  entered  so  fully 
into  his  attempt  to  make  the  captives  comfortable,  that 
she  finally  eloped  with  the  youngest  of  the  unfortunate 
prisoners.  In  spite  of  this  unfortunate  act  of  disunion 
on  the  part  of  his  wife,  the  judge  conferred  upon  his  new 
settlement  its  present  patriotic  title. 

The  flats  around  Union  are  very  fertile,  and  one  mile  in 
width.  These  extend  several  miles  before  us,  and  through 
them  the  JNTanticoke  Creek  passes  toward  Susquehanna. 
We  cross  its  small  stream  by  a  wooden  bridge.  There 
are  several  mills  on  this  creek  in  sight.  At  this  point 
we  touch  the  base  of  the  mountains  closely,  while  the 
"flats"  still  keep  on  our  left.    The  turnpike  from  Bing- 


144 


GUIDE-BOQK  OF  THE 


hamtoii  to  Owego  passes  aloiig  the  mountain  also,  and 
from  many  of  its  high  points  overlooks  the  road  and 
the  river.  From  one  of  these  points,  three  miles  beyond 
Union,  the  view  is  really  superb  as  we  look  westward,  and 
see  the  round  hill  near  that  village  rising,  mound-like, 
from  the  vast  plain,  while  immediately  below  us  the  Sus- 
quehanna, by  one  of  its  graceful  curves,  sweeps  closely  up 
alongside  of  the  rail-road,  winding  thread-like  round  the 
heights  on  the  left.  Leaving  this  exquisite  bit  of  scenery, 
we  soon  enter  a  region  directly  opposite  in  character,  and 
of  almost  primitive  nature,  the  only  marks  of  man's  pres- 
ence being  such  as  to  make  the  prospect  more  desolate,  for 
those  cleared  patches  on  the  hill  side,  with  their  gloomy 
hemlock  and  black  stumps,  m  showery  weather  make  the 
prospect  appear  as  though  it  had  been  desolated  by  war 
Presently  we  catch  sight  of  a  long  new  bridge  over  the 


Susquehanna,  and  the  busy-looking  lactones  oi  Apalachin 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river. 

Here  we  leave  Broome  county  and  enter  Tioga,  once  a 
part  of  that  now  called  Chemung.  The  eastern  portion 
of  its  soil  resembles  that  of  Broome,  but  the  northwestern 
abounds  in  limestone  and  gypsum. 

Campville  (from  New  York  230  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
230  miles)  is  six  and  a  half  miles  from  Union,  and  will 
become,  ere  long,  of  importance,  from  the  quantity  of  cat- 
tle brought  here  to  be  sent  to  New  York.    The  village 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


145 


is  an  old-fashioned  one,  but  boasting  a  hotel  which  it  would 
be  well  for  larger  places  to  imitate  in  point  of  cleanliness, 


comfortable  beds,  and  good  fare.  This  station  is  just  equi- 
distant from  New  Xork  and  Dunkirk. 

From  Campville'l,  Te.narkable  embanked  curve  in  the 
road  follows  the  river  side,  and  then,  rushing  across  a 
wide  plain  by  a  straight  section,  in  length  only  second  to 


that  at  Delaware,  we  suddenly  come  upon  the  pretty  vil- 
lage of 

Ov/EGo  (from  New  York  23 6i  miles,  from  Dunkirk  223| 
miles).  The  station  and  offices  here,  like  the  town  itself, 
are  next  in  rank  to  Binghamton,  to  which  Owego  bears 
much  resemblance,  though  not  possessing  the  natural  ad- 
vantages of  position  which  Binghamton  enjoys.     It  is 

7 


146 


GUIDE-IiOOK  OF  THE 


named  after  the  creek  on  which  it  stands,  at  its  junction 
with  the  Susquehanna,  though  Mr.  "Willis  asserts  the  name 
should  be  written  Owago — that  is,  "  swift  river,"  the  very 
translation  given  by  some  to  the  word  Chenango.  But, 
indeed,  there  is  much  uncertainty  and  fancy  in  these  same 
translations,  for  we  have  often  heard  half  a  dozen  mean- 
ings assigned  to  some  of  the  aboriginal  terms.  Like  Bing- 
hamton,  Owego  is  placed  in  a  level,  fertile  part  of  the  val- 
ley, and  on  the  margin  of  the  Susquehanna,  here  crossed 
by  a  wooden  bridge.    The  first  clearing  was  made  in  1791 , 


and  the  village  was  incorporated  in  1827.  Its  growth 
was  very  rapid,  its  wealth  mainly  springing  from  the  salt- 
springs  of  Salina,  which  staple,  with  lumber,  were  sent 
down  to  Pennsylvania  and  Maryland.  Mills,  too,  flour- 
ished on  the  Owego,  and  finally  the  rail-road  fully  opened 
to  it  an  enriching  channel  of  business.    It  now  contains 


NEW  YORK  AND.. ERIE  :'RAIL-ROAD. 


147 


about  2500  inhabitants,  and  possesses  all  the  appurtenan- 
ces of  an  important  town  in  its  banks,  printing-offices, 
churches,  and  busy  hotels.  There  are  also  several  flour, 
plaster,  and  woolen,  mills  here.  The  business  done  is 
large,  and  its.  streets  and  stores  appear  always  crowded. 
The  new  p art ;of  , the  town  is  planted  with  trees,  and  lined 
with  plank  p/avements,  and  ornamented  with  beautiful 
dwellings,  as  Binghamton  is.  This  pretty  village  re- 
ceived a  severe  loss  by  the  great  fire  in  the  autumn  of 
1849,  when  nearly  all  its  large  stores,  its  bank,  several 
hotels  (and  a  part  of  the  bridge  over  the  Susquehanna), 
forming  one  third  of  the  town,  were  consumed.  The  loss 
of  property,  though  great,  did  not  prove  fatal,  for  imme- 
diately the  energy  and  enterprise  of  the  citizens  caused 
new  edifices  to  appear  on  the  ashes  of  the  burned  district. 
The  rapid  growth  of  Owego  is  seen  in  the  fact  that,  at  the 
opening  of  the  road  in  1849,  the  man  was  present  that 
put  up  the  first  log  hut  on  the  spot  where  the  town  now 
stands  !  From  Owego  the  Cayuga  and  Susquehanna 
Rail-road  extends  to  Ithaca,  on  Cayuga  Lake,  a  distance 
of  30  miles,  having  a  gauge  of  the  same  width  with  the 
parent  road ;  and  by  this  branch  road  an  important  addi- 
tion has  been  made  to  the  business  of  the  main  road  and 
to  Owego,  by  the  trade  opened  with  the  northern  counties 
by  the  lake,  that  send  down  their  plaster,  flour,  and  other 
produce  for  the  lumber,  coal,  iron,  and  other  staples  of  the 
southern.  The  travel,  too,  is  large,  as  it  furnishes  a  speed- 
ier and  more  varied  route  to  those  who  have  heretofore 
traveled  by  the  way  of  Albany  to  New  York. 

The  country  around  Owego  is  exceedingly  beautiful,  and 
afibrds  fine  drives.  Several  of  the  proprietors  of  the  sur- 
rounding land  are  paying  great  attention  to  improving  it, 
so  that  in  a  short  time  it  will  be  one  vast  plain  of  the 
highest  cultivation.  The  locality  of  most  interest  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  village  is  Glen  Mary,  the  late  rural 
abode  of  N.  P.  Willis,  whose  graceful  pen  has  bestowed  on 


148  GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 

its  beauties  an  immortality  that  will  always  make  the 
spot  attractive  to  tourists.  The  house  has  "gone  to  stran- 
gers," but  the  attractions  of  the  retreat  remain  precisely  as 
when  the  late  owner  penned  the  ''Letters  from  under  a 
Bridge"  —  where,  by- the- way,  his  humble  seat  now  lies 
unused,  and  dusty  by  the  showers  of  "free  soil"  through 
the  crevices  of  the  bridge.  The  glen,  so  called,  is  more 
like  a  gentle  ravine  than  the  species  of  vale  which  that 
Highland  title  designates.  A  little  brook  leaps  down 
through  its  thick  groves,  and  near  one  of  its  prettiest  cas- 
cades is  the  grave  of  Mr.  Willis's  infant  child — a  fit  and 
touching  resting-place  for  it,  beside  that  young  and  hurry- 
ing streamlet.  From  a  hill  just  above  the  house  there  is 
a  superb  view,  in  the  middle-ground  of  which,  between 
two  sloping  outlines  of  mountains,  Owego  is  very  pictur- 
esquely placed. 

The  road  passes  Owego  Creek  by  a  substantial  bridge, 
half  a  mile  west  of  Owego,  and  then  resumes  the  course 
along  the  valley,  varying  but  little  from  its  general  char- 
acter. 

Smithbop.ough  (from  New  York  246  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 214  miles)  is  a  prettily-situated  village,  on  the  right 
side  of  the  road,  10  miles  beyond  Owego.    A  bridge  cross- 


es the  Susquehanna  here  on  the  left.  As  wc  proceed  on- 
ward, the  country  evidently  becomes  less  settled  and  quite 
uninteresting. 

Barton  (from  New  York  249  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
211  miles)  is  a  thriving  little  town,  beautifully  situated, 


NEW  YORK   AND   ERIE  llAlL-KuAl. 


three  miles  beyond 
Smithborough.  It 
has  a  respectable 
business,  although 
the  station  is  yet 
in  its  infancy,  and 
has  several  good 
hotels.  The  old 
road  ran  through 
this  town  to  the 
north  of  the  pres- 
ent one,  and  from 
one  of  its  substantial  unused  bridges  we  take  the  accom- 
panying sketch. 


A  few  miles  beyond  Barton  we  take  one  last  look  at  the 
Susquehanna,  which,  however,  before  leaving,  bestows  a 
bit  of  its  scenery  upon  us  almost  as  wild  as  that  on  the 
Delaware.    It  has  brought  us  quite  to  the  edge  of  Penn- 


sylvania again,  but, 
declining  to  follow 
the  sharp  elbow  it 
thrusts  across  the 
"  line,"  we  cross  the 
.ase  of  its  angle, 
and  keep  due  on 
tlirough  one  of  the 


150  GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 

straightest  sections  and  most  level  plains  on  the  road.  A 
little  further  Ave  cross  a  high  embankment  thrown  across 
the  fiat  vale  through  which  the  Cayuta  Creek  flows.  Two 


bridges  afibrd  a  passage  to  its  waters,  that  have  caused  to 
spring  up  there,  to  the  north  of  us,  the  busy  mills  that  give 
to  the  village  the  name  of  Factoryville. 

Waverley  (from  New  York  266  miles,  from  Dmikirk 
194  miles),  as  the  station  at  this  place  is  called,  is  situ- 
ated in  a  deep  curved  cut,  half  a  mile  from  the  end  of  the 


embankment,  and  one  mile  from  the  old  village,  that  has 
attained  great  business  activity,  and  is  as  thriving  as  any 
community  we  have  passed. 

The  neat  little  village  of  Waverley  stands  on  a  hill  to 
the  west  of  Factoryville,  though  what  has  caused  it  to 
spring  up  there  no  one  can  imagine.    The  station  is  des- 


NEW  YORK   AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


151 


lined  to  be  an  important  one.  Already,  since  it  was 
sketched  for  this  work,  has  it  changed  its  appearance  to  a. 
degree  perfectly  marvelous,  so  that  what  was  but  a  few 
years  smce  a  simple  station-house  almost  hidden  by  tbo 
banks  of  the  rail-road,  is  now  the  nucleus  of  a  bustling  mass 
of  stores  and  public  houses. 

Very  near  the  station  the  traveler  will  be  struck  with  a 
bare,  flat-topped,  regularly-shaped  mound,  110  feet  above 


the  surrounding  soil,  which  is  here  called  Spanish  Hill — 
U'hij  is  an  unsolved  riddle.  Its  shaven,  regular  slope, 
and  certain  marks  on  the  top,  show  that  at  one  time  it 
had  been  fortified — possibly  during  the  old  French  war, 
and  thus  its  foreign  birth  might  have  got  confounded.  It 
is,  how^ever,  the  subject  of  a  legend — an  article  lamenta- 
bly scarce  in  these  regions,  that  want  the  charm  of  asso- 
ciatiori  to  keep  one  unfatigued  while  traversing  its  eternal 
sameness.  According  to  the  legend,  on  one  occasion  a 
party  of  six  Indians  encamped  on  this  hill,  wdth  three 
white  prisoners  carried  off  from  the  massacre  of  Wyo- 
ming. At  night  the  captives  rose  and  slew  five  of  their 
captors,  the  sixth  escaping.  Upon  this  simple  brave 
achievement  has  been  embroidered  a  tissue  of  bloody,  su- 
pernatural, and  ridiculous  stories.  It  is  said  that,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  triumph  of  the  captive  whites,  the  Indians 
beheved  no  red  man  could  leave  that  hill  alive.  The 


152 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


pale  faces,  also,  have  their  awful  suspicions  about  the 
mount,  as  some  swear  that  the  devil  himself  has  been 
seen  running  up  and  down  it ;  and  others,  again,  believe 
that  Captain  Kidd's  treasure — those  very  ubiquitous  de- 
posites  I — was  buried  in  its  mysterious  bosom. 

The  extremity  of  the  tongue  of  land  formed  by  the  Sus- 
quehanna dipping  down  into  Pennsylvania  is  called  Tio- 
ga Point,  and  the  west  side  of  it  is  formed  by  the  Che- 
mu7ig  River,  that  here  joins  the  former,  and  which  last, 
thus  enlarged,  keeps  on  to  the  south,  Tioga  Point  is  a 
place  of  great  natural  beauty  and  of  historical  interest ; 
for  here  not  only  did  the  expedition  stop  that  afterward 
desolated  Wyoming,  but  in  1779  it  was  the  rendezvous 
for  the  forces  of  Generals  Sullivan  and  Clinton,  then  in 
pursuit  oi  Brant y  just  reeking  with  the  blood  shed  at  Min- 
nisink.  The  village  of  Athens — the  eternal,  omnipresent 
Athens,  to  be  found  from  St.  John's  to  the  Rio  Grande  I — 
stands  on  this  point.  The  Indian  name  of  Tioga  was 
Ta-hi-o-ga,  said  to  mean  "conjunction  of  streams,"  the 
same  translation  given  to  many  other  names.  It  seems 
strange  there  should  be  such  a  radical  difference  in  the 
dialects  of  tribes  living  so  near  each  other  I  In  addition 
to  its  natural  and  historical  interest,  Tioga  Point  is  the 
outlet  of  the  coal  and  iron  mines  of  Pennsylvania,  that  are 
here  exchanged  for  the  lumber,  plaster,  and  salt  of  New 
York.    At  the  station  of 

Chemung  (from  New  York  260  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
200  miles),  five  miles  west  of  Waverley,  we  see  the  Riv- 
er Chemung  for  the  first  time,  and  find  it  a  worthy  trib- 
utary to  the  Susquehanna.  The  road  runs  close  along  the 
stream  at  this  place,  and  at  considerable  height  above  it. 
Its  embanked  curve  makes  a  noble  section  for  the  prac- 
tical man  to  look  at,  and,  looking  back  from  the  end  of 
the  embankment,  the  tourist  may  catch  a  view  worthy  of 
the  "winding  river"  itself.  The  abundance  of  hemlock 
and  the  uncultivated  appearance  of  this  region  show  that 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RATL-ROAI), 


153 


lumber  and  leather  are  its  support.  The  rafts  we  saw 
constantly  increasing  on  the  Susquehanna  are  seen  more 
frequently  on  the  Chemung,  and  the  narrow  alleys  in  the 
mountain  sides  for  sliding  down  the  timber,  so  remark- 
able on  the  Delaware,  are  again  a  frequent  feature  of 
the  landscape.  Five  miles  beyond  Waverley  we  pass 
through  a  level  plain  crossed  by  the  Chemung.  We  pass 
the  river  by  a  substantial  wooden  bridge.  Heavy  gravel 
cuts  and  another  level  plain  succeed  ;  and  then,  sudden- 
ly turning  w^estward  close  to  the  brink  of  the  river,  we  pass 
the  great  rock-cutting  at  the  Narroivs,  near  Wellsburg. 


uriDE-130oK   of  THt 


The  scenery  is  now  improving,  with  evident  signs  of  our 
getting  into  a  region  more  populous. 

The  left  bank  of  the  river  at  the  "  Narrows"  is  formed 
by  a  steep  mountain,  along  which  the  "  cut"  is  made  in 
the  rock  for  half  a  mile,  though  the  right  bank  is  a  wide, 


ffat  meadow  of  great  fertility,  ending  in  the  mountains 
half  a  mile  from  the  river.  A  wooded  island  in  the  Che- 
mung at  this  point  gives  more  interest  to  the  view  of  the 
Narrows.  At  the  further  end  of  the  rocky  "  cut,"  in  a 
little  recess  of  the  hills,  stands  the  old  village  of  Wellsburg. 


NEW   YORK  AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


155 


Wellsburg  station  (from  New  York  266  miles,  from 
Dunkirk  194  miles)  is  of  but  little  importance.  Our  road 
now  enters  a  region,  however,  bearing  every  token  of  rich 
land  and  high  cultivation,  and  after  a  run  of  seven  miles 
through  its  extensive  farms,  we  arrive  at 

Elmira  (from  New  York  273  miles,  from  Dunkirk  187 
miles).    This  is  the  queen  city  along  the  New  York  and 
Erie  Rail-road,  and  is 
a  good  specimen  of  the 

towns  that  seem  to  eo;-  *  ' 

hale  from  the  Amer-  *  ~  - 

ican  soil.  Rapid  as 
has  been  the  growth  of 
Binghamton  and  Owe- 
go,  theirs  have  been  as 
a  snail's  pace  compar- 
ed with  that  of  their 
Western  rival.  Situ- 
ated on  the  north  bank 
of  the  Chemung,  we  enter  its  streets  by  a  covered  bridge 
of  wood.  Adjoining  is  the  bridge  over  which  the  turn- 
pike to  Owego  crosses.  The  traveler,  as  he  skirts  along 
its  suburbs  to  its  busy  station  in  the  west  end,  and  then 
passes  to  his  hotel  through  those  compact  streets,  crowd- 
ed with  business  and  intersected  by  a  canal,  can  hardly 
believe  that  Elmira,  20  years  ago,  was  a  little  obscure 
village,  though  its  settlement  goes  much  further  back. 
It  was  settled  in  1788  by  a  Captain  John  Hendry.  At 
that  time  it  was  on  the  only  pathway  from  Wilkesbarre 
to  Canada.  Its  original  name  was  Con-e-wa-ivah,  or, 
''head  on  a  pole,''  from  the  fact  that  the  head  of  an  In- 
dian chief  was  found  here  thus  mounted — a  good,  sono- 
rous title,  and  far  better  than  the  present  lackadaisical 
name  of  the  town.  Captain  Hendry,  however,  Anglicized 
it  into  Newton.  In  1791  the  village  was  located  by  one 
Moses  De  Witt,  and,  of  course,  its  name  was  again  changed 


156 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


— this  time  to  Demittsburgh.  Under  that  title  it  figures 
in  the  original  plot  and  conveyance.  In  that  year  the 
first  frame  house  was  erected.  The  lands  were  sold  to  set- 
tlers at  eighteen  pence  per  acre.  The  town  finally  re- 
ceived its  present  title  from  some  gentleman  who  named 
it  after  his  wife.  Though  at  once  made  a  prosperous  set- 
tlement by  its  advantages  as  a  lumber  depot,  and  the  mill- 
seats  on  Newton  Creek,  that  not  far  off  empties  into  the 
Chemung,  it  did  not  assume  remarkable  growth  until  the 
construction  of  the  Chemung  Canal  in  1830-32.  This 
important  work,  extending  20  miles  to  Seneca  Lake,  at 
once  supplied  an  outlet  for  its  lumber  by  way  of  the  Erie 
Canal,  and  brought  here,  in  return,  valuable  exchanges  of 
merchandise,  to  be  sent  in  large  quantities  into  Pennsyl- 
vania by  the  Williamsport  and  Elmira  Rail-road,  already 
in  good  part  constructed,  opening  into  the  heart  of  North- 
ern Pennsylvania.  This  period  may  be  considered  the  be- 
ginning of  its  fortunes,  that  have  flourished  since  to  such 
a  degree  as  to  make  it  now  a  town  containing  about  12000 
inhabitants,  with  factories,  churches,  academies,  printing- 
oflices,  store-houses,  and  every  other  sign  of  a  future  city. 
It  is  situated  in  a  broad  valley,  rivaling  in  fertility  and 
beauty  that  in  which  Binghamton  stands.  From  the 
high  mountains  half  a  mile  west  of  Elmira,  where  the 
river  makes  a  sudden  bend,  the  best  view  may  be  had  of 
the  town  and  of  the  valley.  From  the  dark  fringe  of 
mountains  in  the  distance,  the  Chemung  winds  thread- 
like toward  us,  across  the  fertile  flats,  till  in  the  center  of 
the  picture,  where  it  flings  out  its  broad,  bright  sheet, 
with  its  wooded  island  and  bridges,  on  the  right  side  of 
which  extends  afar  the  white  and  steepled  mass  of  the 
town,  and  on  the  left  the  rich  fields  and  groves,  streaked 
by  the  yellow  line  of  the  rail-road.  Nursed  in  the  lap  of 
such  a  fertile  vale,  every  hill  of  which,  even,  is  cultivata- 
ble  to  the  top,  and  fed  on  the  tributes  of  that  river  and 
^hat  canal,  no  wonder  Elmira  at  once  proved  a  stout  and 


NEW   YORK  AND   ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


159 


healthy  young  giant.  These  elements  of  prosperity  re- 
ceived their  crowning  impulse  by  the  extension  of  the  Erie 
Rail-road  to  Elmira  in  October,  1849,  that  has  opened  to 
this  magnificent  and  fertile  valley  such  a  direct  and  rapid 
communication  with  the  city  of  New  York,  and,  by  the 
Newburgh  branch,  \^dth  the  river  counties.  The  station, 
of  course,  is  extensive  in  its  buildings  and  the  amount  of 
its  business.  In  addition  to  the  agent's  office  and  freight- 
houses,  a  large  engine-house,  with  turn-table,  renders  the 
station  one  of  importance.  The  rail-roads  which  diverge  at 
this  point  add  to  the  prosperit)^  of  Elmira.  The  Williams- 
port  Road,  which  goes  down  into  Pennsylvania,  is  chiefly  a 
coal  road  ;  but  its  extensions  into  the  Keystone  State  make 
it  a  route  of  increasing  importance  every  year,  and  the  coal 
business  itself  is  fast  becoming  the  greatest  business  in  the 
West.  The  long  lines  of  coal  trains  on  the  Erie  Road  look 
from  a  distance  like  huge  black  snakes  winduig  along  the 
fields.  The  Elmira,  Canandaigua,  and  Niagara  Falls  Road 
diverges  here,  and  passes  through  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
sections  of  the  state  to  Penn  Yan,  Canandaigua,  and  Niagara 
Falls.  This  is  a  favorite  route  with  travelers  to  the  Falls, 
and  is  Avell  wortliy  a  visit  from  the  tourist. 

A  very  pleasant  trip  also  may  be  made  to  JefTerson, 
and  thence  doAMi  Senega  Lake  to  Geneva.  The  branch 
road  to  the  lake  passes  through  a  beautiful  country, 
and  the  tourist  visiting  Elmira  should  not  fail  to  take 
this  rapid  run  by  rail  and  steam  to  Geneva,  at  the  foot 
of  the  lake,  for  a  pleasanter  sail  and  a  fairer  town  he  wall 
not  meet  on  this  continent.  The  whole  region  abounds 
with  the  picturesque,  that  makes  the  hackneyed  titles  of 
its  fairy  nooks  and  localities  disgusting.  We  have  aheady 
groaned  over  the  vile  taste  that  has  rejected  the  express- 
ive and  sonorous  Indian  titles,  and  adopted  those  of  the 
ancient  and  classical  w^orld  ;  but  the  region  round  Seneca 
Lake  has  been  wofully  victimized  by  some  pedant,  that 
has  emptied  Lempriere's  Classical  Dictionary  upon  its  de- 


160 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


voted  acres.  Thus  the  lake  itself,  which  the  Indians 
called  Ho-ne-oye,  or  "Hemlock  Lake,"  was  dubbed  Sen- 
eca, though,  if  its  philosophic  depth  had  to  be  named  after 
a  Greek  sage,  Socrates  had  a  better  right,  inasmuch  as  he 
is  associated  with  one  species  of  hemlock  in  his  last  jorum 
of  earthly  drink  I  Then  its  shores  are  so  dotted  Avith  Ovid, 
Hector  Falls,  Homer,  &c.,  that  we  expect  to  meet  with 

"Jupiter  and  Caesar,  likewise  Nebucknad?ia_ysar," 

and  other  classicalities  of  the  "  groves  of  Blarney."  With 
such  pedantic  titles  for  really  pretty  places,  disgusting  our 
common  sense  and  taste,  it  is  refreshing  to  meet  with  such 
short  aboriginal  sounds  as  Pen-Yan,  or  the  downright 
rough  but  intelligible  Saxon  of  ''Horse-heads" — which 
means  something,  and  that  is  the  fact  that,  where  the 
village  stands,  General  Sullivan,  while  encamped  here  in 
1780,  slew  his  old  cavalry  horses,  and  their  skulls  being 
left  to  whiten  the  plain,  the  place  became  a  Golgotha  of 
steeds,  and  hence  its  name.  The  mention  of  ''Horse- 
heads'"  reminds  us  of  the  historical  event  that  fortunate- 
ly invests  Elmira  and  the  neighborhood  with  the  sacred 
interest  associated  with  one  of  the  Revolutionary  battles. 
We  have  already  spoken  of  the  retreat  of  the  Indians  un- 
der Brandt  after  the  bloody  defeat  of  the  New  York  troops 
in  1779,  near  the  Lackawaxen,  and  the  pursuit  of  the  foe 
by  an  army  of  5000  men  under  General  Sullivan,  that 
had,  under  orders  from  Washington,  collected  at  Tioga 
Point,  and  then  followed  Brandt  up  the  Chemung.  The 
Indians,  that  numbered  500  on  their  retreat,  were  joined 
by  a  force  of  250  British  and  regulars  under  experienced 
officers,  and  the  allies  then  made  a  stand  at  Elmira,  just 
in  front  of  the  bridge.  At  this  point  Brandt  command- 
ed the  Indians,  while  the  regulars  were  posted  behind  a 
breast- work  extending  to  the  left  as  far  as  the  high  mount- 
ain westward  of  the  town,  and  at  the  base  of  which  New- 
ton Creek  flows  into  the  Chemung.  The  plans  of  ths  al- 
lies were  ingenious,  but  could  not  baffle  Sullivan,  who, 


NEW  Y  )iCK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


Ifil 


sending  up  the  mountains  a  strong  brigade  under  General 
Poor  to  turn  their  left  flank,  at  the  same  time  made  a 
furious  assault  upon  their  breast- work.  After  a  short 
struggle  the  allies  gave  way,  and  retreated,  with  great 
slaughter,  toward  Seneca  Lake.  Sullivan  followed  ;  but, 
from  some  cause  or  other,  the  victory  was  not  made  de- 
cisive by  any  subsequent  dispersion  of  the  Indians,  who 
not  long  after  collected  in  large  marauding  bands,  Sul- 
livan encamped  for  some  time  at  Horse-heads,  six  miles 
from  Elmira,  and  there  slew  his  old  chargers,  as  already 
described.  The  point  of  his  encampment  when  at  Elmira 
was  Sullivan's  Mills,  on  Newton  Creek,  half  a  mile  west 
of  the  town. 

Besides  this  E-evolutionary  incident,  Elmira  is  associated 
with  the  history  of  an  eminent  personage,  above  all  others 
acquainted  with  strange  vicissitudes  of  fortune,  the  late 
Louis  Philippe,  ex-king  of  the  French.  We  have  men- 
tioned that  Talleyrand  had  visited  the  Chenango  Valley 
in  1795,  and  the  revolution  in  France  had  also  thrown  on 
our  shores  at  the  same  time  the  young  Duke  of  Orleans 
(then  the  title  of  Louis  Philippe)  and  his  brothers,  the 
dukes  of  Nemours  and  De  Berri.  These  royal  outcasts 
came  to  Elmira  on  foot  from  Canandaigua,  and  after  a 
short  stay  they  descended  the  Chemung  and  Susquehan- 
na to  Harrisburg.  Since  that  era,  what  a  change  has 
passed  over  the  old  wily  Protean  minister  and  the  exiled 
prince,  successively  the  popular  king  and  the  banished 
naonarch  I  and  within  that  epoch  this  (then  wild)  valley 
aas  leaped  into  a  wealth,  dignity,  and  importance  that 
would,  as  a  title,  confer  honor  on  king,  duke,  or  baron. ^ 

We  can  not  close  these  reflections  upon  the  history  and 
growth  of  Elmira  without  quoting  an  amusing  incident  in 
its  earliest  history,  as  told  by  the  ingenious  Jo  Sykes,  and 
which  may  be  regarded  as  prognostic  of  the  rapid  increase 

*  For  an  interesting  sketch  of  this  journey,  see  the  Democratic  Review 
n>r  May,  1840. 


162 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


of  the  community.  One  summer  afternoon,  in  1788,  while 
Captain  John  Hendry  (the  first  settler  of  Elmira)  and  his 
son  were  at  work  on  a  log  hut,  a  man  and  woman  emerged 
from  the  pathway  leading  from  Newton  Creek.  The  man 
rode  ahead,  with  a  basket  on  each  side,  holding  a  young 
baby.  The  woman  was  in  the  rear,  on  horseback,  sur- 
rounded with  the  goods  and  chattels  of  the  family.  The 
man  approached,  and  asked  if  a  doctor  was  to  be  had  near, 
and  to  the  colonel's  questions  replied  that  his  wife  had 
hurt  herself  by  stumbling.  Learning  that  no  physician 
was  in  the  neighborhood,  they  passed  on  further,  and  made 
themselves  the  best  shelter  they  could  get  that  night. 
Next  morning  the  colonel  again  met  the  man  near  the 
spot,  and  inquired  after  his  wife's  health.  "As  well  as 
could  be  expected,"  was  the  answer.  The  following  day 
Hendry  sent  his  son  to  inquire  about  them,  and  the  boy 
returned  saying  that  they  were  preparing  to  start.  "  But 
the  poor  woman,  my  son,  how  is  she?"  "Oh I"  replied 
the  boy,  "  oh  !  she's  got  another  baby,  and  I  guess  she 
wants  another  basket  to  put  it  in  !" 

Beyond  Elmira  we  cross  the  Chemung,  and  pass  Junc- 
tion with  the  Chemung  Hail-road,  four  miles  from  Elmi- 
ra (from  New  York  277|  miles,  from  Dunkirk  182^  miles). 
At  this  point  the  road  to  Jefferson  and  Niagara  Falls  di- 
verges from  the  Erie  track.  The  gauge  is  the  same  wide 
gauge,  and  the  cars  roomy  and  comfortable.  The  distance 
from  Elmira  to  the  Falls  is  168  miles;  to  Batavia,  119 
miles  ;  to  Canandaigua,  G9  miles  ;  to  Penn  Yan,  15  miles  ; 
and  tc  Jefferson,  22  miles. 

Big  Flats  (from  New  York  283|-  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
1761  miles)  is  a  small  station.  A  village  is  springing  up 
around  it. 

Corning  (from  New  York  291  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
169  miles),  17  miles  beyond  Elmira.  This  thriving  town 
stands  on  the  south  bank  of  the  Chemung  River,  and  con- 
tains about  1500  inhabitants.    It  is  beautifully  situated 


NEW  YORK   AND   ERIE   RAIL-ROAD.  163 

at  the  foot  of  a  noble  hill,  affording  fine  views  of  the  rich 
valley.    It  has  several  large  hotels,  a  foundry,  and  fac- 


tories, and  is  the  depot  of  the  Corning  and  Blossburg  Rail- 
road, that  extends  40  miles  to  a  rich  field  of  bituminous 
coal,  the  only  one  known  to  exist  near  the  line  of  our  state, 
wherein  such  coal  is  in  extensive  demand.  The  feeder 
of  the  Chemung  Canal  extends  from  Elmira  to  this  place. 
This  is  perhaps  the  greatest  lumbering  depot  we  have  yet 
met  in  our  journey  along  this  timber  region.  It  is  reck- 
oned that  twenty-five  millions  of  feet  of  dressed  timber 
are  sent  down  every  year  from  this  place  ;  and  thus  one 
can  imagine  what  a  blessing  a  rapid  transit  by  rail  must 
prove  to  such  a  depot.  The  Chemung  is  here  very  wide, 
and  is  crossed  by  a  covered  wooden  bridge.  Like  Elmira 
and  Owego,  Corning  has  felt  the  ravages  of  fire,  almost  the 
entire  business  portion  of  the  village  having  been  burned 
in  1850  ;  but,  like  its  burned  sisters,  it  has  risen  from  its 
ashes  in  greater  and  more  substantial  beauty  and  enter- 
prise. Whole  blocks  of  brick  houses  stand  now  where 
before  frail  frame  buildings  and  shanties  only  were  seen. 
At  this  point  couniiences  the  Buffalo,  Corning  and  New 
York  Rail-road,  which  extends  to  Bath  and  Avon,  and  which 
passengers  take  for  Batavia  and  Eochester.  It  was  com- 
pleted to  Batavia  in  the  course  of  the  year  18()4,  and  passes 


i;i!ll)H-li(  <)K  nV    I  iii; 


tlirough  a  line  country,  and  is  a  very  important  branch  of  our 
road.  Its  length  is  a  hundred  miles.  On  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river  are  the  two  communities  of  Knoxville  and 
Centcrville.  The  former  is  composed  of  lumbermen,  liv- 
ing in  shanties.  There  is  an  inviting  field  of  labor  for  the 
missionaries  in  these  lumbering  villages.  Nearly  two 
miles  west  of  Corning  the  Chemung  divides  into  two  forks, 
the  northern  one  of  which  is  called  the  Conhocton,  and 
the  southern  the  Canisteo — the  former  (so  said)  signifying 
"  trees  in  the  water,"  and  the  latter  "  board  in  the  water." 
One  mile  from  Corning  we  cross  the  Chemung  by  a  long 
wooden  bridge  of  several  arches.  We  soon  perceive  the 
junction  of  the  two  rivers.  The  scenery*"' there  is  very 
beautiful,  and  through  the  large  trees  that  overhang  them 
we  have  taken  the  glimpse  here  given  of  the  pretty  vil- 
lage of 

Painted  Post  (from  New  York  292^  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 167|-  miles).  This  beautiful  little  retired  village  is 
by  far  the  oldest  settlement  in  this  inland  part,  and  is  said 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD.  165 

to  date  its  existence  as  far  back  as  200  years  since.  Con- 
sequently there  is  a  sober  dignity  in  its  appearance,  but  at 
the  same  time  its  hotels,  spacious  stores,  and  neat  dwell- 
ings prove  that  it  keeps  pace  with  the  progress  of  the  pres- 
ent age.  It  derives  its  name  from  the  fact  that  a  painted 
post  was  found  here  over  the  grave  of  a  celebrated  In- 
dian chief,  in  the  very  part  of  the  open  area  of  the  vil- 
lage where  a  high  modern  post,  striped  with  red  and  white 
paint,  now  stands,  surmounted  with  a  painted  metal  out- 
line of  an  Indian  chief  with  raised  arrow,  to  perpetuate 
the  legend.  The  villagers  regard  this  monument  with 
great  reverence,  and  are  jealous  of  all  heresy  as  to  the 
true  locality  of  this  legend,  scorning  the  pretensions  of  the 
little  community  (C enter ville)  between  them  and  Corn- 
ing, which,  claiming  its  locality  to  be  the  true  one  for  the 
aboriginal  monument,  has  also  erected  for  itself  a  painted 
post,  and,  in  order  to  eclipse  the  sheet  iron  statue  of  its 
bigger  rival,  has  capped  its  wooden  pillar  with  a  board 
having  an  Indian  painted  on  each  side.  Now,  though  the 
(5eiitervillians  have  thus  taken  a  double  chance  upon  the 
decision  of  the  traveler,  yet  the  more  durable  effigy,  ex- 
clusively metallic,  of  Painted  Post  seems  to  look  more  au- 
thentic than  the  perishable  tawny  that  stares  at  you  from 
the  painted  sides  of  the  Centerville  sign-board.  There  is 
a  spurious,  parvenu  imitative  complexion  in  the  latter 
post  too — its  delicate  pink,  more  like  a  stick  of  mint  can- 
dy, that  makes  one  regard  wdth  confidence  its  rival's  en- 
sanguined hues  I  Indeed,  the  higYi-metalled  hero  revolv- 
ing at  its  top — vane-e^i  of  weather-cocks  ! — seems  to  utter 
this  sentiment  as  we  view  him  at  a  distance,  his  pointed 
arrow  looking  as  if  he  had  his  thumb  to  his  nose,  and  with 
expanded  digits  he  were  saying  to  his  rival,  "You  can't 
come  it  I  I  am  the  only  true  and  original  Painted  Post — 
I  am  I" 

Leaving  Painted  Post,  we  cross  almost  immediately  the 
ConhocLon.  The  bridge  across  this  stream  was  burned  down 


166 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


in  the  spring  of  1855,  but  has  been  replaced  by  a  substantial 
structure.  Immediately  below  the  bridge,  in  the  grove  of 
trees  visible  from  the  cars,  is  the  point  of  junction  of  the 
Conhocton  and  Canisteo — in  fact,  forming  the  Chemung. 

Within  three  fourths  of  a  mile  from  the  last  station  -we 
strike  the  Canisteo,  and  follow  its  bed,  up  stream,  until  we 
reach  Hornellsville.  This  stream  will  be  remarkable  to  the 
traveler  for  the  quantity  of  logs  and  timber  floating  in  it,  and 
the  immense  piles  of  lumber  on  its  banks.  The  hills  are 
covered  with  finer  timber  than  we  have  seen,  and  many 
pines  abound  in  the  forests.  But  these  are  rapidly  disap- 
pearing, as  the  well-used  timber-slides  which  we  see  on  the 
opposite  hills,  and  the  numberless  saw-mills' along  the  Can- 
isteo, fully  attest. 

Addison  (from  New  York  301^  miles,  from  Dunkirk  157f 
miles)  is  situated  at  the  junction  of  the  Canisteo  and  the 
Tuscarora  Creek,  It  is  the  centre  of  a  large  lumber  trade, 
and  is  one  of  the  busiest  places  along  the  road.  The  Tus- 
carora valley  furnishes  an  avenue  through  which  a  large  por- 
tion of  the  country  can  approach  the  rail-road  at  this  place. 
The  county  of  Tioga,  in  Pennsylvania,  also  finds  a  market 
here.  Addison  was  originally  named  Middletown,  and  was 
organized  in  1796.  The  view  of  the  valley  to  the  southward 
from  the  station  is  pleasant,  and  the  old  hemlocks  seem  to 
stand  around  it  like  a  row  of  sentinels  keeping  guard  on  a 
treasure.  There  are  several  very  fine  views  up  and  down 
the  river  between  this  station  and  the  next,  which  is 

Rathboneville  (from  New  York  306^  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 152|:  miles),  a  small  village  in  a  valley  surrounded 
by  timber  lands.  A  valuable  agricultural  district  south  of 
the  river  here  approaches  the  rail-road.  As  we  go  westward, 
the  road  passes  along  a  terrace  cut  into  the  foot  of  a  mount- 
ain, with  the  Canisteo  close  at  the  side  of  the  cars.  Many 
fine  views  may  be  caught  as  we  now  ascend  this  river  in  a 
ravine  rather  than  a  valley.  What  land  there  is  is  good,  but 
it  is  very  scarce  indeed. 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


167 


Cameron  Mills  is  a  little  station  in  a  valley,  forming  a 
pleasant  view  to  the  eye  of  the  traveler  on  the  express  train, 
which  he  passes  swiftly.  The  tops  of  all  the  hills  in  this 
neighborhood  were  but  a  few  years  since  covered  with  splen- 
did pines,  which  have  now  almost  wholly  disappeared. 

Cameron  (from  New  York  314^  miles,  from  Dunkirk  145 
miles)  stands  at  the  foot  of  a  deep  mountain  gorge,  looking 
like  an  immense  mill-hopper.  In  this  gorge  is  one  of  the 
finest  places  for  driving  deer  now  to  be  found  on  the  line  of 
the  road,  and  the  sportsman  will  be  abundantly  repaid  who 
will  pass  a  week  here  in  December.  The  dogs  bring  the 
deer  down  the  ravine  into  the  river,  and  they  are  shot  within 
a  hundred  yards  of  the  station. 

We  look  back  occasionally  now  as  we  descend  the  valley, 
and  catch  the  fine  views  that  its  openings  and  closes  afford, 
until  we  reach 

Adrian,  a  small  station  of  no  special  importance.  It  used 
to  be  said  that  a  tavern  and  blacksmith's  shop  at  a  cross- 
road made  a  village,  but  there  are  no  cross-roads  here.  They 
all  run  one  way,  and  the  only  crossings  are  timber-slides. 

Canisteo  (from  New  York  327^  miles,  from  Dunkirk  132 
miles).  The  village  lies  half  a  mile  from  the  station  on  the 
valley,  which  here  widens,  and  contains  some  excellent  land. 
Our  next  station  is 

Hornellsville  (from  New  Y'ork  331^  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 127f  miles).  This  village  is  situated  in  one  of  the  wide 
areas  of  the  valley  where  the  hills  recede  from  the  river.  Its 
natural  advantages  are  great,  and  as  one  of  the  division  sta- 
tions on  the  road,  as  well  as  the  terminus  of  the  Buffalo  and 
New  York  City  Road,  it  is  an  important  place.  The  valley 
is  fast  filling  up  with  houses,  and  almost  every  thing  now 
visible  to  the  traveler's  eye  is  the  growth  of  the  road,  which 
was  completed  to  this  place  in  September,  1850. 

At  this  point  diverges  the  Buffalo  and  Neiv  York  City 
Rail-road,  which  has  become  almost  a  part  of  the  Erie  Road. 
Trains  nm  in  connection,  and  passengers  are  sent  through  to 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


the  AVest  by  Buffalo  or  Dunkirk,  as  Ihey  may  prefer.  The 
road  continues  by  the  side  of  the  Erie  track  through  the  vil- 
lage, and  then  diverges  to  the  north.  The  track  is  exceed- 
ingly uninteresting  for  the  hrst  twenty-five  miles,  at  w^hich 
distance  from  Hornellsville  the  traveler  will  observe,  from 
occasional  distant  views,  that  he  is  on  very  high  land,  and  at 
length  he  will  catch  a  sudden  view  of  a  village  lying  off  to 
the  southwest,  in  a  deep  valley,  and  after  skirting  the  edge 
of  the  hill  for  a  few  rods,  the  cars  bring  up  at  the  station  at 

Portage.  This  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  points  in  the 
United  States,  and  is  destined,  from  its  peculiar  natural  ad- 
vantages, to  become  the  resort  of  lovers  of  wild  scenery  and 
picturesque  waterfalls.  The  Genesee  River,  whose  waters  the 
traveler  will  have  crossed  who  continued  on  the  road  to  Dun- 
kirk, here  enters  a  deep  defile  or  ravine,  across  which  the 
rail-road  is  carried  on  a  bridge  which  is  unsurpassed  in  the 
world  by  any  wooden  structure.  This  bridge  is  built  upon 
thirteen  stone  piers  set  in  the  bed  of  the  river,  the  stone 
being  built  sufficiently  high  to  avoid  all  danger  of  freshets. 
On  these  piers  the  structure  is  raised,  a  mass  of  timber  rising 
to  the  height  of  234  feet,  on  which  the  track  of  the  road  is 
laid.  The  length  ,of  the  bridge  on  the  track  of  the  road  is 
800  feet.  This  great  work  was  completed  in  the  year  1853, 
and  is  undoubtedly  the  , finest  wooden  bridge  in  the  world. 
It  is  said  to  be  so  constructed  that  any  timber  in  the  bridge 
can  be  removed  and  replaced  at  pleasure. 

The  Genesee  River  enters  the  ravine  only  to  seek  lower 
and  still  lower  depths.  Directly  below  the  high  bridge,  and 
in  sight  of  the  windows  of  the  cars,  is  the  first  fall,  a  half 
horse-shoe,  about  forty  feet  high,  which  is  a  picturesque  cas- 
cade. In  a  still  evening,  the  visitor,  standing  on  the  top  of 
the  high  bridge,  will  hear  the  sound  of  this  fall  coming  up 
to  him  with  a  faint  and  distant  music,  that  lends  an  inde- 
scribable attractiveness  to  the  savage  grandeur  of  the  ravine 
down  which  he  is  looking. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  to  the  north,  where  the  mill  is  visible, 


NEW  YORK   AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


169 


is  the  second  fall,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  sheets  of  water 
in  America.  The  river,  after  falling  over  the  mill-dam  and 
spreading  out  over  a  level  floor  of  slate-stone,  leaps  ofl'  into  a 
deep  black  basin.  The  fall  is  about  eighty  feet  high,  and 
when  the  stage  of  water  is  low,  the  appearance  is  that  of  a 
most  exquisite  vail  of  lace  thrown  out  in  front  of  a  black 
rock.  The  visitor  will  find  the  best  view  of  this  fall  by 
crossing  the  bridge  above  the  mill,  and  going  to  the  point 
directly  in  front  of  the  fall.  The  river  flows  out  to  the  right 
of  the  basin,  so  that  a  position  may  be  taken  on  a  grassy 
knoll  directly  before,  and  about  two  hundred  feet  from  it,  the 
"hell  of  waters"  in  the  basin  intervening.  A  few  rods  far- 
ther up  the  hill  is  a  staircase,  down  which  you  may  walk 
some  three  hundred  steps  to  the  bottom  of  the  ravine,  and 
then  pull  up  in  a  boat  to  the  foot  of  the  fall,  and  enter  the. 
Devil's  Hole,  a  hole  worn  some  feet  into  the  side  of  the  per- 
pendicular rock,  under  the  grassy  knoll  on  which  you  lately 
sat. 

In  this  ravine  the  visitor  finds  himself  between  two  per- 
pendicular walls  of  slate-stone,  more  ■  than  three  hundred 
feet  high.  He  will  observe  some  small  streams  trickling 
off'  the  top  of  this  wall,  and  dissolving  into  blue  mist  long 
before  they  reach  the  bottom. 

A  walk  of  a  mile  and  a  half  do-vyn  the  bed  of  the  stream, 
if  the  water  be  low,  or  a  ride  of  three  miles  down  the  road, 
will  bring  the  visitor  to  the  lower  fall,  where  the  river,  after 
dashing  over  rocks,  is  suddenly  compressed  into  a  narrow, 
deep  gorge,  across  which  a  man  might  almost  leap,  and 
after  vexing  and  chafing  itself  in  this  confined  channel,  sud- 
denly turns  around  a  mass  of  rock,  and  plunges  sixty  feet  in 
a  roaring  torrent  into  a  basin  below.  This  is  one  of  the 
wildest  views  which  can  be  found  in  America,  and  will 
amply  repay  the  scenery-hunter  for  a  pause  of  two  days. 

The  Genesee  Valley  Canal  passes  under  the  bridge  and 
over  the  high  bluff'  of  rock  on  the  east  bank  of  the  river  at 
the  middle  fall.    It  was  intended  to  tunnel  this  hill,  and 

H 


170 


GUIDE-BOOK    OF  THE 


the  work  was  carried  on  to  some  extent,  but  it  proved  a 
failure,  and  was  abandoned.  This  will  explain  to  the  in- 
quirer the  perforations  of  the  hill,  which  he  will  see  on  the 
road  as  he  drives  from  the  hotel  to  the  fall  by  the  circuitous 
road  which  it  is  necessary  to  take  in  order  to  reach  the  bot- 
tom of  the  valley. 

PoRTAGEviLLE,  the  wliitc  village  half  a  mile  above  the 
rail-road  bridge,  in  the  valley,  is  a  small  place  having  800 
inhabitants  and  five  churches.  The  canal  crosses  the  river 
by  an  aqueduct  in  the  middle  of  the  village.  From  the 
station,  going  west,  the  road  crosses  the  high  bridge,  and 
proceeds  to  "Warsaw,  Attica,  and  Buffalo. 

Returning  to  the  Erie  Road,  we  proceed  westward  from 
Hornellsville,  and  immediately  enter  the  valley  of  the  Ca- 
niacadea  Creek,  which  indeed  can  hardly  be  called  a  val- 
ley, but  is  rather  a  gorge  of  the  hills  down  which  the  stream 
winds  and  dashes.  Q/uiet  and  beautiful  views  abound  along 
this  part  of  the  road,  and  the  traveler  can  not  fail  to  admire 
the  village  of 

Almond  (from  New  York  336-i-  miles,  from  Dunkirk  122J 
miles),  which  lies  in  the  valley  on  the  bank  of  the  stream, 
and  excites  the  wonderment  of  the  tourist  as  to  how  it  got 
there,  or  what  it  does  there.  This  small  and  beautiful 
stream,  which  appears  so  peaceful  in  this  mountain  glen, 
has  nevertheless  its  hours  of  wrath,  and  becomes  terrible. 
Such  was  the  case  in  June,  1855,  when  there  was  one  of 
the  most  fearful  floods  here  that  we  have  ever  known.  A 
storm  occurred  in  the  night,  brief  but  of  tremendous  force, 
which  in  about  two  hours'  time  changed  the  stream  into  a 
broad  and  overpowering  river.  Nothing  prevailed  to  resist 
its  headlong  course.  The  entire  valley  was  filled  with  its 
waters,  which  rushed  over  farms,  through  villages,  sweep- 
ing every  thing  before  it,  and  devastating  this  beautiful  glen. 
In  the  village  of  Almond,  several  houses  were  removed  from 
their  foundations,  and  turned  completely  around,  and  carried 
to  a  distance  down  stream.    Enormous  logs  of  timber  were 


NEW  YORK   AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


171 


conveyed  to  the  doors  and  yards  of  houses,  from  which  it 
was  impossible  to  remove  them  w^hen  the  flood  subsided. 
The  whole  valley  felt  the  flood,  from  the  summit  to  Hor- 
nellsville.  The  latter  place  was  literally  under  water,  which 
was  three  feet  deep  on  the  rail-road  track  and  over  the  en- 
tire plain.  Several  lives  were  lost,  and  a  large  amount  of 
property  destroyed.  The  storm  which  caused  this  devasta- 
tion was  so  confined  in  its  locality  that  four  miles  from  the 
valley  it  was  not  felt,  and  west  of  the  summit  there  was  no 
unusual  fall  of  water. 

As  we  proceed  up  the  heavy  grade,  which  is  about  50 
feet  to  the  mile,  and  in  a  northerly  direction  after  passing 
Almond,  we  reach  the  station  at 

Alfred,  another  village  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  Ca- 
niacadea  (from  New  York  340-1-  niiles,  from  Dunkirk  11  Si- 
miles), which  had  its  share  of  the  flood  in  1855,  though  not 
so  much  as  the  lower  part  of  the  valley.  Just  before  reach- 
ing this  station,  a  fine  view  up  the  valley  may  be  seen  be- 
tween the  two  hills,  which  almost  frame  it  as  a  picture.  The 
last  building  in  Alfred,  as  we  go  west,  is  a  small,  square 
house,  painted  red,  and  marked  in  large  letters,  "  Gun  House." 
This  doubtless  is  the  village  arsenal,  where  the  Fourth  of 
July  is  kept  under  lock  and  key,  to  be  let  out  annually. 

"We  are  now  approaching  the  highest  point  on  the  rail- 
road, and  after  crossing  the  stream  by  a  high  bridge  and 
embankment,  and  passing  a  deep  rock  cut,  we  reach 

Tip  Top  Summit,  the  highest  point  on  the  grade  of  the  Erie 
Road,  being  1760  feet  above  tide-water  (distant  from  New 
York  3441  miles,  from  Dunkirk  115  miles).  A  shanty  and 
a  water-tank  make  the  place  appear  more  lonesome  than  it 
would  be  if  entirely  desolate. 

And  now  we  commence  the  descent  which  is  to  bring  us 
to  the  valley  of  the  Genesee.  There  are  few  signs  of  civili- 
zation on  either  hand.  A  sfiream  of  water  grows  larger  as 
we  go  on,  which  is  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  Genesee,  and 
after  passing  a  pond  on  the  right,  we  reach 


172 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


Andover,  a  small  village  (distant  from  New  York  349 
miles,  from  Dunkirk  110^  miles)  containing  some  400  in- 
habitants. The  road  now  resumes  its  course  toward  the 
west,  and  the  grade  descends  40  feet  to  the  mile.  It  is  to 
be  observed  here  that  this  is  a  characteristic  of  the  entire 
road,  that  the  gi-ades  are  lightest  for  trains  going  in  the 
direction  of  the  weight  of  business  and  freight.  We  con- 
tinue to  descend  through  a  country  of  unusual  wildness,  the 
views  being  painfully  alike  in  their  one  characteristic  of  un- 
disturbed forest,  the  stream  by  the  side  of  the  road  increas- 
ing in  size,  and  occasionally  crossed  by  the  track  on  substan- 
tial bridges,  until  we  reach  the  station  of 

Genesee  (from  New  York  357-J  miles,  from  Dunkirk  101^ 
miles).  The  village  is  Wellsville.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
promising  places  on  the  western  division,  commanding  all 
the  trade  of  Potter  county  in  Pemisylvania,  and  of  a  large 
circle  of  country.  The  population,  which  at  the  opening 
of  the  road  was  scarcely  800,  is  already  nearly  1800,  and 
increasing  rapidly.  We  here  enter  the  valley  of  the  Gene- 
see River,  which  we  follow  closely  for  ten  miles  westward. 
The  appearance  of  the  country  does  not  differ  from  that  which 
we  have  just  come  through,  except  that  the  timber  is  some- 
what larger,  and  less  of  the  finest  has  been  cut  and  taken 
away. 

Scio  (from  New  York  301^  miles,  from  Dunkirk  98 
miles)  is  a  small  village,  in  the  town  of  the  same  name,  on 
a  level  tract  of  land,  with  some  fine  farms  around  it.  The 
valley  improves  here. 

Phillipsville  (from  New  York  365^  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 93|^  miles)  is  so  named  from  Hon.  Philip  Church,  whose 
residence  stands  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Genesee  River,  which 
we  here  cross  by  a  very  fine  bridge.  The  falls  of  the  river 
afibrd  an  excellent  water-power,  and  a  number  of  saw-mills 
are  in  successful  operation.  The  village  is  fast  increasing, 
and  is  likely  to  become  a  large  and  flourishing  place.  The 
course  of  the  road  from  Hornellsville  to  this  place  has  been 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


173 


very  circuitous,  to  avoid  which  a  tunnel  was  at  one  time 
proposed,  but  the  idea  was  abandoned  ;  and  the  road  pre- 
sents the  singular  aspect  of  a  railroad  460  miles  long,  through 
a  most  mountainous  section  of  country,  without  an  inclined 
plane  or  a  tunnel.    Our  next  station  is 

Belvidere  (from  New  York  369  miles,  from  Dunkirk  90J 
miles),  on  the  Genesee,  near  the  bridge  by  which  the  road 
crosses  that  river.  It  is  well  situated  for  trade  with  the 
adjoining  towns  of  Angelica  and  Belfast,  the  northern  part 
of  Alleghany  county,  and  portions  of  Livingston  and  Wy- 
oming, which  naturally  tend  to  the  road  at  this  point. 

We  follow  for  a  little  while  the  course  of  Van  Campen's 
Creek,  so  named  from  Major  Moses  Van  Campen,  who  was 
an  officer  in  the  Revolution,  and  died  at  Dansville  at  the 
advanced  age  of  91  years.  The  grade  ascends  30  feet  to  the 
mile.  The  pioneer  settler  of  this  region  was  Benjamin  Cham- 
berlain, who  settled  at  Angelica.  He  was  in  the  battles  of 
Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill,  and  with  Arnold  at  Q.uebec. 
He  was  a  native  of  Massachusetts,  and  died  at  Angelica  in 
1847,  aged  90  years. 

Passing  through  wild  lands  again,  we  approach  Friend- 
srap  (from  New  York  373-i-  miles,  from  Dunkirk  8of  miles), 
a  village  that  did  not  derive  its  name  from  the  fact  that  it 
is  built  very  conveniently  on  one  street,  and  extends  nearly 
a  mile  along  that,  except  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  station- 
house.  The  building  with  the  shining  cupola  is  an  acad- 
emy. The  fields  around  look  well.  Population  800.  Four 
miles  and  a  half  west  of  this,  we  reach 

Cuba  Summit,  where,  should  the  tourist  be  passing  in  a 
rain-storm,  he  may  moralize  on  the  slight  causes  that  are 
sufficient  to  change  the  destiny  of  a  life.  At  the  point  where 
the  road  crosses  the  Summit,  the  rain-drops  which  fall  to 
the  east  flow  into  the  Genesee  Valley,  and  over  the  falls  at 
Portage  and  Rochester,  and  dovm  the  St.  Lawrence  to  the 
bleak  coasts  of  Newfoundland  ;  while  those  that  fall  one  foot 
to  the  west  will  find  themselves  running  to  the  Alleghany, 


174 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


the  Ohio,  the  Mississippi,  and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  A  breath 
of  wind  ^vill  change  the  fate  of  the  drop.  From  this  point 
Ave  descend,  and  5  miles  farther  west  we  pass  the  village  of 
Cuba,  lying  on  the  plain  below  us  ;  but,  having  a  long  de- 
scent to  accomplish  before  reaching  its  level,  we  describe  a 
circuit  around  the  place  before  arriving  at  the  station. 

Cuba  (from  New  York  362-^  miles,  from  Dunkirk  77 
miles)  is  a  lively  business  place,  with  fine  prospects  for  the 
future.  It  is  situated  on  Oil  Creek,  a  tributary  of  the  Alle- 
ghany River,  and  these  waters  flow  into  the  Mississippi. 
We  have,  in  fact,  accomplished  the  crossing  of  the  Alleghany 
ridge.  Oil  Creek  derives  its  name  from  a  large  spring  about 
six  miles  north  of  Cuba,  from  which  large  quantities  of  bi- 
tuminous oil  are  obtained.  The  Indians  value  it  highly; 
and  when  by  treaty  they  sold  the  western  part  of  the  state, 
they  made  a  reservation  around  this  spring  of  one  mile 
square,  which  is  still  owned  by  the  Seneca  nation,  and 
known  on  the  maps  as  the  Oil  Spring  Heservation.  The 
population  of  Cuba  is  over  1000.  After  leaving  the  station, 
we  pass  into  Cattaraugus  county,  so  called  from  a  corrup- 
tion of  the  Indian  Gar-ta-ra-ke-ras,  said  to  signify  "  Stinking 
Shore,"  and  to  have  been  applied  to  Lake  Erie.  The  country 
is  highly  elevated,  being  from  500  feet  to  1200  feet  above 
the  Lake.  The  streams  which  pass  through  it  are  m^ostly 
deeply  cut  in  ravines  and  glens,  which  are  sometimes  very 
picturesque  and  beautiful.  It  was  celebrated  for  the  growth 
of  its  timber.  Trees  have  been  cut  here  that  measured  230 
feet  in  height,  and  five  of  them  have  been  known  to  furnish 
a  hundred  "  lumberman's  logs." 

The  Genesee  Valley  Canal  is  on  the  side  of  the  road  as 
we  go  west  from  Cuba  Station,  and  continues  so  to  its  term- 
ination at  Olean. 

Hinsdale,  a  small  village,  is  at  the  junction  of  the  Oil 
Creek  and  Ischua  Creek,  and  through  the  valley  of  the 
Ischua,  which  extends  north  to  Erie  county,  considerable 
business  comes  to  this  station.    The  region  now  grows  pleas- 


NEW  YORK   AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


175 


anter,  and  the  laud  more  fertile.  Vie  cross  the  Oil  Creek 
and  the  Canal  one  mile  before  reaching  the  station  at 

Olean  (from  New  York  394-j  miles,  from  Dunkirk  64-|- 
miles),  which  derives  its  name  from  the  creek  on  which  it 
stands.  The  village  lies  a  mile  south  of  the  station-house 
on  the  Alleghany  River,  at  its  junction  with  Oil  Creek.  "VYe 
see  the  Alleghany  for  the  first  time  after  leaving  this  station. 
At  Olean  were  made  the  earliest  settlements  in  this  part  of 
the  country.  Before  the  Holland  Purchase  Company  had 
surveyed  their  land,  Major  Hoops,  a  Revolutionary  officer, 
purchased  a  large  tract  here  from  the  proprietors.  Before 
the  construction  of  the  Erie  Canal,  Olean  was  on  the  hne  of 
travel  for  emigrants  to  the  south  and  west,  and  had  thus 
some  notoriety.  If  the  river  remained  closed  longer  than 
had  been  anticipated  in  the  spring,  provisions  would  be  very 
high  at  Olean,  while  the  crowd  of  emigrants  awaiting  the 
opening  increased.  At  such  times — in  1818,  for  instance — 
flour  has  been  sold  here  at  $25  a  barrel,  and  pork  as  high 
as  $50.  In  1806,  Olean  embraced  the  whole  of  Catta- 
raugus county.  James  Green,  the  first  supervisor,  built  in 
1808  the  first  saw-mill  ever  built  on  the  Alleghany.  Lum- 
ber was  in  that  year  first  taken  down  the  river.  In  1813 
no  white  man  lived  on  the  Alleghany  below  Olean.  The 
lumber  business  here  is  very  great,  both  over  the  road  and 
down  the  river,  to  the  great  cities  of  the  west  and  south- 
west. The  next  station,  3^  miles  from  Olean,  was  formerly 
called  Burton,  but  is  now 

Alleghany,  a  little  village  in  a  nev/  clearing,  and  en- 
tirely the  product' of  the  Erie  road.  After  passing  this  sta- 
tion four  miles,  we  enter  the  Indian  Reservation,  at  the 
crossing  of  jS'ine-mile  Creek.  The  Reservation  is  about  one 
mile  wide  and  thirty  miles  long,  extending  both  sides  of  the 
Alleghany  River.  "VYe  run  along  the  banks  of  the  Alle- 
ghany, which  is  inclosed  between  high  hills,  and  in  a  wild 
country.  Civilization  has  not  invaded  the  Alleghany  Indian 
Reservation.    An  occasional  hut,  a  family  of  squalid  Indian 


176 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


children,  a  squaw  dressed  in  gaudy  colors,  or  a  liali-drunken 
Indian,  are  the  only  views  that  will  attract  the  eye  of  the 
traveler  other  than  the  splendid  hills,  which  have  a  melan- 
choly interest  in  being  still  in  the  possession  of  the  race  that 
has  held  them  for  a  thousand  years.  No  American  will 
fail  to  appreciate  this  interest,  and  unworthy  though  they 
be  to  possess  the  lordly  heritage  of  their  fathers,  no  one  will 
care  to  disturb  the  miserable  remnant  who  starve  in  the 
midst  of  that  which  the  hand  of  the  white  man  would  turn 
into  gold.  Some  of  them  are  industrious  and  thrifty,  and 
deserve  the  comforts  they  enjoy.  The  Alleghany  Reserva- 
tion belongs  to  the  remnant  of  the  Seneca  nation,  who  num- 
ber about  700.  Two  miles  west  of  Alleghany  is  a  deep  rock 
cutting,  and  we  pass  along  the  side  of  the  river  on  a  terrace 
cut  into  the  foot  of  the  hill. 

TuNNUNGWANT  is  a  Small  station  on  the  Reservation,  with 
three  or  four  Indian  huts  near  the  road. 

Great  Valley  (from  New  York  410^  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 48-1-  miles)  is  a  station  on  the  Reservation,  and  on  a 
stream  of  the  same  name,  and  commands  the  busmess  of  the 
valley  in  which  Ellicottville,  the  county  town,  is  situated. 
The  Alleghany  River  still  in  view  is  called  the  Ohio  by  the 
Indians,  and  is  doubtless  the  true  Ohio.  The  grade  of  the 
road  here,  and  for  several  miles,  is  nearly  level. 

Buck  TOOTH  is  an  unimportant  station  in  itself,  but  of  in- 
terest as  the  point  at  which  the  rail-road  diverges  to  Erie  in 
Pennsylvania.  The  grade  of  this  road  is  visible  to  the  south- 
west of  the  track  of  the  Erie  road.  It  is  414-|-  miles  from 
New  York,  and  44-|  miles  from  Dunkirk.  The  road  con- 
tinues much  the  same  as  before  to 

Little  Valley  (from  New  York  420|-  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 38i  miles).  The  village  is  pleasantly  situated,  and 
commands  the  business  of  Randolph,  Jamestown,  and  other 
parts  of  Chautauque  and  Cattaraugus.  Here  we  leave  the 
Alleghany  River  and  the  Indian  Reservation,  at  the  mouth 
of  Little  Valley  Creek,  which  we  shall  follow  up  about  fif- 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


177 


teen  miles.  We  ascend,  toward  Dayton,  the  last  upward 
grade  before  reaching  Dunkirk. 

Cattaraugus  (from  New  York  428  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
31-i-  miles),  formerly  called  Albion,  is  a  station  on  the  side 
of  a  hill  along  which  the  track  is  cut.  As  we  leave  the 
station  we  go  through  a  deep  rock  cutting,  and  then  around 
a  spur  of  the  hill.  A  deep  valley  or  glen  opens  on  the  right, 
with  a  line  hill  on  the  opposite  side.  Along  the  side  of  this 
valley  we  run  for  a  long  distance,  and  the  views  down  into 
it,  over  the  tops  of  the  trees,  or  through  them,  or  down  the 
occasional  gorges  that  open  into  the  valley  across  the  track 
of  the  rail-road,  are  exceedingly  fine  and  picturesque.  The 
entire  route  from  the  Alleghany  River  to  the  Lake  is,  in  point 
of  scenery,  fully  equal  to  any  other  part  of  the  road.  At 
432  miles  from  New  York  we  have  a  view  to  the  right 
which  is  very  extensive,  and  bounded  only  by  distance  and 
the  weakness  of  human  vision.  Immediately  after  this  we 
leave  the  deep  valley  on  the  right,  and  cross  a  piece  of  cleared 
land,  comparatively  level,  and  passing  some  good  farms,  have 
scarcely  time  to  see  them,  when  we  again  enter  the  forest, 
again  to  emerge  into  a  clearing  surrounded  by  sentinel  trees, 
and  at  length  reach 

Dayton  (from  New  Y^ork  437^  miles,  from  Dunkirk  21-J 
miles).  This  is  the  point  from  which  we  descend  to  Dun- 
kirk. The  summit  is  a  few  rods  west  of  the  station.  The 
grades  are  various  between  this  and  the  Lake,  never  exceed- 
ing 40  feet  to  the  mile.  The  soil  is  gravelly,  timbered  with 
beech,  sugar-maple,  white-wood,  hemlock,  and  pine,  and 
yields  abundant  crops  of  every  kind,  being  well  watered  with 
numerous  streams. 

Perrysburg,  formerly  called  Cooper's  Corner  (from  New 
York  440-i-  miles,  from  Dunkirk  I8f  miles),  is  a  station,  and 
nothing  else.  Three  miles  west  of  this  point  we  catch  our 
first  view  of  Lake  Erie,  off*  to  the  northeast,  and  a  grand 
view  it  is.  There  is  a  deep  rock  cutting  at  444-Jr  miles  from 
New  York,  and  we  come  to 

H  2 


178 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


Smith's  Mills  (from  New  York  447^  miles,  from  Dun- 
kirk 12  miles).  The  station  is  on  the  hill-side,  and  the  vil- 
lage lower  down.  This  is  the  last  station  in  Cattaraugus 
county. 

AYe  enter  Chautauque  county — the  last,  not  least,  of  the 
southern  tier — at  its  eastern  boundary,  and  pass  through  a 
highly-cultivated  farming  district,  comprising  the  towns  of 
Hanover,  Sheridan,  and  Pomfret,  to  Lake  Erie.  The  name 
of  the  county  is  a  corruption  of  the  Indian  word  Ots-ha-ta-ka, 
or,  as  others  have  it,  Ja-da-queh,  signifying  a  land  of  mist. 
The  county  was  erected  in  1808  by  dividing  Genesee.  The 
commissioners,  in  locating  the  seat  at  Mayville,  describe  the 
place  in  general  terms,  and,  as  if  to  identify  it  by  a  perma- 
nent monument,  add  that  they  have  planted  in  the  center  a 
large  hemlock  post.  All  the  region  between  the  G-enesee 
E,iver  and  the  Pennsylvania  line  previous  to  1800  was  em- 
braced in  the  town  of  Northampton,  and  the  first  tax-roll 
for  that  town  bears  date  October  6,  1800.  The  first  white 
child  born  in  Chautauque  was  JohnM'Henry,  in  1802.  He 
was  drowned  in  Lake  Erie  while  attempting  to  make  a  trip 
from  the  mouth  of  Chautauque  Creek  to  Erie  in  a  small  boat 
after  provisions.  Chautauque  Lake  is  a  beautiful  sheet  of 
water,  20  miles  long  and  from  one  to  four  wide.  Its  eleva- 
tion is  some  730  feet  above  Lake  Erie,  and  1300  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  ocean,  and  it  is  said  to  be  the  highest  navi- 
gable water  on  the  continent.  A  steam-boat  runs  regularly 
upon  it  in  summer,  between  Mayville  and  Jamestown. 

Chautauque  county,  although  in  its  infancy,  has  long  since 
ceased  to  be  a  "  secluded  county."  Bordering  the  lake,  and 
with  easy  access  to  markets,  its  agricultural  resources  have 
been  rapidly  developing.  Constant  immigration  from  New 
England  and  the  river  country,  and  oil;-.:-  portions  of  our 
state,  have  overspread  it  with  a  population  of  some  50,000, 
distinguished  for  their  enterprise  and  intelligence.  The  table- 
lands bordering  the  lake  produce  all  the  grains,  and  the  more 
hilly  country  back  of  them  is  mainly  devoted  to  dairy  pur- 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE  RAIL-ROAD. 


179 


poses ;  and  the  butter  and  cheese  produced  in  Chautauque 
are  not  far  behind,  in  quahty  or  quantity,  any  other  county 
in  the  state.  Dunkirk,  Fredonia,  Westfield,  Mayville,  James- 
town, Forestville,  and  Silver  Creek  are  the  principal  villages. 
The  first  station  on  the  road  in  the  county,  as  we  approach 
the  lake,  is 

Forestville  (from  New  York  45 1^  miles,  from  Dunkirk 
8  miles),  near  the  beautiful  village  of  Forestville.  This  sta- 
tion will  accommodate  the  local  business  of  several  towns, 
and  soon  grow  into  a  flourishing  village.  Just  after  leaving 
the  station  we  cross  Walnut  Creek,  deriving  its  name  from 
a  black  walnut  tree,  a  giant  of  the  forest,  that  grew  on  its 
banks  near  the  village  of  Silver  Creek,  so  immense  in  its 
proportions  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  travelers.  In  about 
1825  it  fell  to  the  ground.  Off  from  the  hollow  butt  was 
cut  some  18  feet  in  length,  which  was  neatly  roofed  over, 
and  arranged  for  a  saloon,  so  as  to  accommodate  some  ten 
or  twelve  at  a  time  ;  and  this  curious  structure  was  brought 
East,  and  exhibited  in  the  Atlantic  cities,  and  afterward 
transported  to  Europe,  and  there  displayed  in  London,  Paris, 
and  elsewhere  abroad  ;  and,  by  way  of  take-off  upon  the 
extravagances  of  European  tourists  in  this  country,  it  was 
represented  to  be  a  fair  specimen  of  the  forest  trees  in  Amer- 
ica. The  eye  of  the  traveler  soon  looks  out  upon  the  broad 
blue  waters  of  Lake  Erie,  and  a  pleasant  run  from  Forest- 
ville, through  fertile  fields  dotted  over  with  comfortable 
dwellings,  soon  brings  him  to  the  termination  of  this  "  more 
than  Appian  Way,"  at  Dunkirk,  where  ample  arrangements 
are  in  progress  to  send  the  traveler  on  his  way.  Lines  of 
first-class  steam-boats  receive  such  as  are  weary  of  rail-road 
travel,  and  speed  them  westward,  while  the  more  impetuous 
and  impatient  of  delay,  or  those  who  shrink  from  the  dan- 
gers and  perils  of  the  sea,  will  take  the  Lake-shore  Rail-road 
to  Cleveland  and  the  West. 

There  are  numerous  inflammable  gas  springs  in  this  coun- 
ty, some  of  which  have  been  applied  to  practical  and  bene- 


180 


GUIDE-BOOK  OF  THE 


ficial  purposes,  the  stores,  hotels,  and  pubhc  buildmgs  in 
Fiedonia  (a  pleasant  and  thriving  village  three  miles  south 
of  Dunkirk)  being  lighted  by  the  supply  derived  from  one 
wliich  issues  from  the  bed  of  the  Canadaway  Creek,  and  the 
light-house  at  Barcelona  (16  miles  from  Dunkirk)  being  also 
lighted  from  a  supply  obtained  in  its  vicinity.  It  is  quite 
probable  that,  ere  long,  "  natural  gas,"  as  it  is  commonly 
called,  will  be  brought  into  more  general  use. 

There  are  likewise  numerous  mineral  springs  in  this  coun- 
ty, some  of  which,  and  particularly  those  in  Dunkirk  and  its 
vicinity,  are  held  in  very  high  repute,  an  analysis  having 
shown  them  to  possess  superior  medicinal  properties. 

As  we  approach  Dunkirk  we  see  the  track  of  the  Buffalo 
and  State-line  road  going  off  to  the  right.  It  foUows  the 
lake-shore  to  Buffalo.  ^ 

Dunkirk  (from  New  York  4G0  miles).  This  terminus  of 
the  road  upon  the  lake  is  destined  to  a  rapid  growth  into 
one  of  the  flourishing  cities  of  the  Lakes.  It  is  not  without 
some  share  of  early  renown.  In  1815  or  thereabouts,  a  mil- 
itary road,  to  be  constructed  by  the  state  through  the  south- 
ern tier  of  counties,  was  projected  by  De  Witt  Clinton  and 
others,  and,  after  a  personal  examination  of  the  lake-shore 
between  Buffalo  and  Erie,  the  Harbor  of  Dunkirk,  then  called 
Chadwick's  Bay,  was  selected  as  the  contemplated  termina- 
tion of  the  great  public  highway.  Subsequently,  impressed 
with  the  idea  of  its  value  as  a  harbor,  De  Witt  Clinton, 
Colonel  Elisha  Jenkins,  Messrs.  I.  and  J.  Townsend,  and 
others,  of  Albany,  bought  land  for  the  site  of  a  town,  and 
laid  out  a  village,  and  called  it  Dunkirk,  after  a  tovm  in 
France  Colonel  Jenkins  had  seen  in  his  travels,  as  he  thought, 
resembhng  it.  The  county  was  at  that  time  a  wilderness ; 
the  waves  of  Erie  washed  a  solitary  shore  ;  all  improvement 
was  conjectural ;  and  the  future,  so  full  of  wonders,  was 
veiled  from  their  view  ;  and  it  is  no  slight  compliment  to 
the  sagacity  and  forecast  of  these  early  pioneers  of  Dunkirk, 
that  all  subsequent  examinations  and  experience  have  vin- 


NEW  YORK  AND  ERIE   RaIL-ROAD.  181 

dicated  their  wisdom,  and  established  the  correctness  of  their 
conjectures  respecting  it. 

Government  erected  a  hght-house  on  the  western  point, 
which  affords  the  western  protection  of  the  bay,  in  1824; 
and  subsequently  a  beacon-light  at  the  main  channel,  and  a 
breakwater  across  the  bay,  having  expended  some  $80,000, 
which,  for  want  of  farther  expenditure,  has  gone  greatly  to 
decay.  All  careful  and  minute  examination  and  surveys  by 
the  engineer  corps  of  the  government  and  of  the  rail-road 
company,  so  much  interested  in  forming  the  best  possible 
lake  connection,  have  established  tlio  fact  that  the  harbor  is 
capacious,  accessible,  secure,  and  capable  of  improvement  to 
one  of  the  best,  if  not  the  very  best,  upon  the  Lakes. 

The  village  now  contains  about  500  houses  and  4700 
inhabitants,  and  ample  buildings  for  the  large  freight  and 
passenger  business  at  this  point.  Individual  enterprise  is 
also  concerned,  and  active  to  develop  the  advantages  of  the 
lake  connection  ;  improvements  are  rapidly  progressing  to 
meet  the  requirements  of  business,  and  it  needs  no  sagacity 
to  foresee  that  Dunkirk  will  gi'ow  into  a  commercial  town 
of  considerable  importance. 

The  site  is  a  beautiful  one.  The  ground  gradually  rises 
as  it  recedes  from  the  lake,  so  that  at  one  mile  from  the 
shore  it  is  about  100  feet  above  the  level  of  the  water. 
There  are  no  local  diseases,  but  the  climate  is  delightful. 
In  summer  time  the  cool  breeze  from  the  lake  is  constantly 
playing ;  the  sunsets  are  as  glowing  and  beautiful  as  those 
of  Italy  ;  the  mornings  are  bright  and  lovely.  There  can 
be  no  more  agreeable  place  for  residence.  Since  the  open- 
ing of  the  road  the  place  has  increased  very  much,  but  there 
has  been  much  disappointment  in  the  slowness  of  its  growth. 
The  rush  of  passengers  to  the  east  and  the  west  is  too  swift 
to  permit  them  to  stop  here,  and  their  money  goes  with 
them.  But  time  will  inevitably  make  this  a  city  of  stores 
and  splendid  residences,  though  it  is  evident  that  the  in- 
crease of  rail-road  facilities  is  always  felt  most  at  the  ex- 


182 


GUIDE-BOOK   OF  THE 


tremities  of  the  roads,  so  that  iu  time  the  railways  of  the 
United  States  will  be  great  connecting  links  between  New 
York  as  the  city  of  the  East,  and  some  great  city  on  the 
Pacific. 

From  Buflalo  or  Dunkirk,  to  whichever  point  the  traveler 
may  have  gone,  he  will  find  the  means  of  conveyance  to 
every  part  of  the  great  West  by  rail-road  or  steam-boat. 

"VYhen  the  Erie  Rail-road  was  projected  and  commenced, 
the  only  route  to  northern  Illinois  was  from  Bufialo  by 
steamer  through  Lake  Erie,  Lake  Huron,  the  Straits  of 
Mackinac,  and  Lake  Michigan.  Milwaukie  was  unknown. 
Chicago  was  a  village.  It  would  be  claiming  too  much  for 
this  road  to  suppose  that  the  great  changes  in  the  AYest  have 
been  produced  by  its  construction.  But  no  reasonable  man 
will  hesitate  to  admit  that  it  has  contributed  more  than  any 
other  single  road  or  route  of  travel  to  these  great  results. 

From  Buffalo  the  western  traveler  Avill  go  to  Detroit  or 
Monroe  by  steamer,  or  by  the  cars  of  the  Great  Western 
Rail-road,  which  crosses  Canada  to  the  same  point.  At  De- 
troit the  Michigan  Central  Rail-road  Avill  take  him  to  Chi- 
cago, or  the  steamer  will  convey  him  up  the  lakes  to  Mack- 
inac and  Lake  Superior.  Or,  if  he  prefers  it,  he  may  take 
at  Bufialo  the  cars  of  the  Lake-shore  road,  which  will  take 
him  to  Cleveland  and  the  West,  passing  through  Dunkirk. 

The  traveler  who  has  followed  the  Erie  road  to  Dunkirk 
will  take  either  the  steamer  on  the  Lake  to  Cleveland  or 
Detroit,  or  the  cars  of  the  Lake-shore  road  through  Erie 
(much  celebrated  in  1854)  to  Cleveland.  At  Cleveland  he 
will  take  rail  to  Columbus,  Cincinnati,  and  the  south,  or  to 
Toledo  and  the  west.  At  Toledo  he  is  on  the  Southern 
Michigan  and  Northern  Indiana  Rail-road,  which  will  carry 
him  to  Chicago.  At  Chicago  he  takes  the  Rock  Island  Rail- 
road to  the  Mississippi  at  Rock  Island  and  Davenport,  or  the 
Illinois  Central  to  St.  Louis,  or  the  Galena  road  to  Galena 
and  Dubuque.  Going  up  the  Missssippi  to  St.  Paul,  he  will 
take  steamer  at  Rock  Island  or  at  Galena. 


NE^V   YORK   AND   ERIE   RAIL-ROAD.  1 8o 

We  have  thus  finished  the  description  of  this  mighty  struc- 
ture, and  we  take  leave  of  the  traveler  on  the  shore  of  the 
Lake,  leaving  him  to  gaze  his  fill  over  the  green  waters, 
which  nowhere  gleam  more  splendidly  than  ofT  the  harbor 
of  Dunkirk. 

Be  it  forever  remembered,  that  in  the  year  eighteen  hun- 
dred and  fifty-four,  a  traveler  left  the  w^aters  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  at  the  harbor  of  New  York,  and  sat  down  in  the  cars 
of  the  Erie  E,ail-road.  But  for  the  grandeur  of  the  scenery, 
the  stern  mountains,  the  dashing  torrents,  the  deep,  strong 
rivers  that  kept  his  attention  constantly  occupied,  we  could 
imagine  him  sleeping  quietly,  and  utterly  forgetful  of  the 
power  that  was  carrying  him  swiftly  toward  the  Pacific,  un- 
til, at  Dunkirk,  he  saw  the  waters  of  Lake  Erie.  On  the 
Lake-shore  road,  and  the  Cleveland  and  Toledo  road,  he  fol- 
lowed them  to  the  Maumee  ;  he  crossed  the  Maumee,  and, 
on  the  Michigan  Southern  road,  went  to  Chicago,  dashing  at 
express  speed  around  the  extremity  of  Lake  Michigan.  At 
Chicago  he  took  the  E-ock  Island  road,  and,  not  having  left 
the  iron  rail,  or  set  his  foot  to  the  ground  till  now,  he  washed 
the  dust  of  New  York  from  his  feet  in  the  brown  waters 
that  had  come  over  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony. 

Future  years  will  show  great  triumphs  of  art  and  perse- 
verance of  intellect,  but  no  age  will  exhibit  a  greater  con- 
trast with  that  which  preceded  it  than  is  presented  by  this, 
in  which  such  results  have  been  attained,  nor  do  we  believe 
that  the  labor  of  man  will  ever  produce  a  more  magnificent 
result  in  filling  valleys  or  hewing  down  mountams  than  is 
presented  by  the  Erie  Rail-road. 


TABLE  OF  DISTANCE& 


Note. — The  reader  w  ill  obsen'e  an  occasional  difference  of  |ths 
of  a  mile  between  the  distances  named  in  the  book  and  the  following 
table.  This  table  is  supposed  to  be  correct  by  the  most  recent  and 
accurate  measurements. 


station. 

Dist.  from 

Dist.  from 

Dunkirk. 

Jersey  City. 

459  i" 

m. 

0 

m. 

456i 

0! 

a 

Ilackensack  Br.  . . 

453 

6i 

Boiling  Spring. .  . 

450 

Passaic  Bridge  . . 

448i- 

11 

Huyler's  

447r 

12 

Paterson  Junction 

443- 

18 

^^ 

Paterson  

442i 

16i- 

Gravel  Switch  . . . 

439i 

20 

437^ 

211 

Hohokus   

23f 

^^ 

Allendale  

25i- 

Ramsey^s  

Sufferri's   

431-i- 

274- 

J, 
,j 

427x 

01  3 

Pier  

4454- 

444y 

1 

441 

4t 

436f 

8i 

Spring  Valley .... 

434i 

lOi 

433 

12 

4301- 

14t 

427|- 

17i 

425i 

33i- 

424 

35j- 

Southjields  

41 7i 

41? 

415r 

44 

412r 

47 

409f 

* 

491- 

Oxford  

407 J- 

52 

Newburgh  

424 

Vail's  Gate   

418t 

5t 

Salisbury  

414t 

Washingtonville  . 

412 

12 

Craigsvilie  

407x 

161- 

East  Junction  

4051- 

533- 

West  Junction  . . . 

405i- 

404i 

55 

399f 

59i^ 

395i 

63k 

392|- 

66t 

HowelVs  

3881- 

70i 

Otisville  

383i 

75^ 

(( 

Shin  Hollow 

377^ 

81i 

37U 

ii 

88 

Turnout  

366i 

92i 

<( 

Rosa  

36li- 

97i 

Middaugh's  

357i 

1011 

352J 

106i 

Lackawaxen 

348i 

llOi 

(< 

Mast  Hope  

343 

116t 

(i 

Narroicsburg  .... 

337i- 

122 

Nobody's  

333 

126^ 

32SJ 

1304- 

Callicoon  

3231- 

<( 

135i 

Hankins^s  

316i 

142^ 

Basket  

313 

K 

146i 

Lordville   

306i 

153 

<< 

Stockport  

SOOi 

159 

295i 

163* 

Station. 

Dickinson's  . . . 
Hale's  Eddy . . . 

Deposit  

Cascade  Bridge 
Canewacta  Bridge 
Susquehanna  .... 
W.  Susquehanna 

Great  Bend  

Kirknvood   

Binghamton  

Union  

Campville  

Oivego  

Tioga  

Smithborough  . . . 

Barton  

Waver  ly  

Chemung  

Wellsburg  

Elmira  

Junction  

Big  Flats  

Noyes's  Switch. . 

Coming  

Painted  Post  

Addison  

Rathboneville  

Cameron  

Adrian  

Canisteo   

Homellsville  

Almond  

Alfred  

Tip  Top  Summit. 

Andoi-er  

Elm  VaUey  

Genesee  

Scio   

Phillipsville  

Belvidere  

Friendship  

Cuba  Summit  

Cuba  

Hinsdale  

Olean  

Alleghany  

Tunungwant  

Great  Valley  .... 

Bucktooth  

Little  Valley  .... 
Cattaraugus  .... 

Turnout  

Dayton  

Perry  sburg  

Smith's  Mills. .. . 

Forestville   

Sheridan  

Dunkirk  


•290  m. 

287J  " 
282i  " 
2751-  " 

267i  " 
268  " 
259  " 
2531-  " 
244i  " 
236i  " 
229i  " 
222i  " 
2171-  " 
2l3i  " 
210^  " 
203  J  " 
199  " 
193i  " 
188i  " 
182i  " 
1761-  - 
174  " 
1681-  " 
167  " 
157i  " 
152i  " 
145  " 
136i  " 
132  " 
127i  " 
122i  " 
118*  " 
115  " 
llOi  " 
1074-  " 
lOH  " 
98  " 
93*  " 
90i  " 
85*  " 

m  II 

70  " 
64*  " 
6U  " 
54  " 
48*  " 
44*  " 
38*  " 
31*  " 
25  " 
21*  " 
18*  " 
12  " 
8  " 
4*  " 
0  " 


GRADES,  ELEVATIOXS,  &c. 


The  following  table  can  not  but  be  interesting  to  the  traveler  on 
the  Erie  Road  : 


Names  of  Places. 

Suffern's  

Chester  

Otisville  Summit . 

Port  Jervis  

Deposit  

Gulf  Summit  .  . .  . 
.Susquehanna  .  . . . 

Owego   

Eimira   

Corninor   


Elevation  above 
Tide  Water  in  ft. 


Names  of  Places. 

Plornellsville  .  .  . 
Tip  Top  Summit 

Andover  

Belvidere  

Cuba  Summit  . . 

Olean  

Great  Valley.  . . 

Dayton  

Dunkirk  


Elevation  above 
Tide  Water  in  11. 


281 
455 
895 
436 
997 
1366 
906 
813 
854 
921 


1138 
1760 
1576 
1369 
1677 
1418 
1390 
1595 
580 


In  addition  to  this  table,  it  will  be  interesting  to  remark  some  of  the 
general  facts  in  relation  to  the  road  not  given  in  the  book : 

The  total  length,  in  feet,  of  bridging  on  the  road  is  25,337  feet. 

The  total  curvature  of  the  road  is  22,252  degrees,  being  an  average 
of  fifty  degrees,  or  a  little  over  one  eighth  of  a  circle  per  mile. 

The  ascent  of  the  road  in  grades  going  west  is  4323  feet,  and  the 
descent  west  is  3732  feet,  the  total  being  8056,  or  an  average  ascent 
or  descent  of  18  feet  to  the  mile  through  the  entire  length  of  the  road. 

There  are  something  over  75,000  tons  of  iron  rails  in  the  track  of 
the  ro-.d. 


TABLE  OF  PtOUTES  WEST  FROM  DUN- 
KIRK OR  BUFFALO. 

1.  From  Buffalo.  ^ 

1.  Great  Western  Rail-road  across  Canada  to  Detroit,  and  thence 
to  Chicago  by  Michigan  Central  Rail-road. 

2.  By  steamer  on  the  Lake  to  any  of  the  western  cities  on  Lake 
Erie. 

3.  By  the  Lake  Shore  Rail-road  to  Erie,  and  to  Cleveland,  and 
other  western  cities. 

2;  iFrom  Dunkirk-. 

1.  Steamers  on  the  Lake  to  any  of  the  western  cities^on  Lake  Erie. 

2.  Lake  Shore  Rail-road  to  Erie,  and  to  Cleveland,  and  other  west- 
ern cities. 

3.  From  Clevel.\nd. 

1.  Cleveland,  Columbus,  end  Cincinnati  Rail-road  to  Columbus  and 
to  Cincinnati. 

2.  Cleveland  and  Toledo  Rail-road  to  Toledo,  via  Norwalk  or  via 
Sandusky. 

3.  Steamers  oh  the  Lake  to  any  of  the  western  cities  on  Lake  Erie. 

4.  Various  other  rail-road  routes  to  parts  of  Ohio  and  Indiana,  for 
which  see  advertisements  and  Rail-road  Directory. 

4.  From  Toledo. 

1.  Michigan  Southern  and  Northern  Indiana  Rail-road,  through 
Adrian,  Jonesville,  and  A\Tiite  Pigeon,  to  Chicago. 

2.  Steamers  on  the  Lake  to  Detroit  and  other  cities. 
•  5.  From  Monroe. 

I.  Michigan  Southern  and  Northern  Indiana  Rail-road  to  Adrian 
and  Chicago.    This  road  forks  at  Adrian,  one  branch  going  to 
Toledo  and  one  to  Monroe. 
6.  From  Detroit. 

1.  Michigan  Central  Rail-road,  via  Ann  Arbor,  Kalamazoo,  and 
Michigan  City,  to  Chicago. 

2.  Steamers  to  Mackinac  and  Lake  Superior. 


188 


TABLE  OF  ROUTES. 


7.  From  Chicago. 

1.  Rock  Island  Rail-road,  via  La  Salle  and  Peru,  to  the  Mississippi 
at  Rock  Island,  opposite  to  Davenport,  Iowa.. 

2.  Chicago  and  Burlington  Rail-road  to  Burlington. 

3.  Chicago,  Alton,  and  St.  Louis  Rail-road,  via  Pontiac,  Spring- 
field, and  Alton,  to  St.  ]|*ouis. 

4.  Illinois  Central  Road  and  branches,  to  Galena  on  the  northwest, 
a^id  Dubuque  in  lov^^a,  or  to  Cairo  on  the  south. 

5.  Galena  and  Chicago  Union  Rail-road  to  Galena. 

6.  Clii(3^o  and  Milwaukie  Rail-road  to  Milwaukie. 

7.  Numerous  other  roads  to  various  parts  of  Illinois,  for  which  see 
Rail-road  Directory. 


THE  END. 


■  ■•:-'-f 


